Patronus Dreams
by Bill Hagridsson
Summary: After a dementor attack, Harry helps Ginny with her patronus charm. Post OotP. Slightly angsty, but not so much. HG of course. Fluff in later chapters. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

When Ginny Weasley opened her eyes to nothing but stark white, she groaned. Hospital Wing. Again. She hated being in here, nearly as much as a certain emerald-eyed dishy young wizard did. She looked off to the side, and was startled by what she saw there. Drawn up to the side of her bed was an armchair, occupied by the one person she'd least expected to see in this part of the castle, at least without him being confined to a bed himself. Harry Potter. The subject of nearly every non-violent fantasy she could ever remember having. At least since September first, nineteen-ninety-two. The day she'd first seen him on Platform 9 ¾, at Kings Cross in London. The more violent ones of course, had generally involved either Draco Malfoy or her twin brothers.

Over the past few months, since Ron and Hermione had finally admitted their feelings for each other, she and Harry had spent a lot more time together. At first, she'd thought that she was more of a port of last resort, so to speak. With his best friends busy with 'prefect duties' a suspicious amount of the time, he'd been at loose ends. He had a few friends around the castle, but not many that weren't due to the DA, or something similar. It had started one night back in October, when she'd been having trouble with an essay for Hagrid, on Nifflers. The students in his year had studied them last year, while her year was covering crups. After the debacle with Umbridge, the little creatures weren't allowed on school grounds anymore, even though there were circumstances that weren't likely to be repeated in the foreseeable future. Strangely enough, the one concerning Nifflers was the only Educational Decree from last year was the only one that had stuck, the rest having been abolished within a week of the students boarding the Hogwarts Express last June.

Harry had helped her finish her essay in short order that night. The two of them had spent the rest of the evening sitting in front of the fire, talking. Before they'd gone up to their dorms that night, he'd told her that any time she needed help on something, to just ask and he'd give her a hand if he could. Since then, they'd become fast friends, going to the other houses quidditch matches together, pranking Ron every now and again, as well as the Slytherins, visiting Hogsmeade. There had been more homework help as well, but not as much as the other activities. In short order, both of them had cause to wonder, with everything they had in common, how it had come about that it had taken so long for them to become friends.

Ginny knew that the emerald-eyed wizard stilled trained with his friends on a regular basis, and in fact knew that, no matter how close she had gotten with him recently, there were some things that were still closed off to her. She'd resented this at first, until Hermione had pointed out that a very small portion of the population of the school were even aware that he was doing anything that wasn't really on the standard curriculum. None of the Trio would tell her what they were studying, but she was nowhere near as dense as some of their classmates seemed to be. At a guess, she was fairly sure they'd been studying advanced dueling techniques, along with quite a lot of practical work thrown in from the way Ron moved some mornings. Related to that, she suspected that Hermione was studying some fairly advanced healing spells, as Ron always seemed to be doing much better after the first period of the day. The two of them, along with Harry, had that time as a 'free' period, though none of the other students were ever able to find them during this time. As Ginny was fairly sure that Ron and Mione wouldn't bring Harry along for snog sessions (_would they? no...that was just...urgh...no _way _could she see that happening_), that had to be when they were studying individually. She felt a bit sorry for Ron and Harry, being used for practice dummies for healing charms. At least that was better than being used for hexing practice.

The only other aspect of their special training that she was fairly sure of was animagus transformation. That was due to something a couple of weeks ago. She'd gone up to the sixth year boys dorm to prank Ron. Apparently, he'd been the one to jinx poor Colin Creevey, because he'd asked her to the upcoming Yule Ball. It hadn't mattered a whit to her 'loving' brother that she'd turned Colin down, just that he'd asked. Ron had hit him with a very localized shrinking hex. As the poor boy wasn't particularly gifted in _that_ area (according to Susan Bones at least), it wasn't something she was willing to let slide. The fiery young witch had just placed an itching jinx on the underwear drawer in her brother's wardrobe, and was feeling very satisfied with herself. She'd looked down as she passed by Harry's four-poster, to see his homework planner lying there. She'd looked around a moment to make sure that nobody was around, opened it, and sneaked a peek. The only notation that seemed unusual was from a week earlier. It said 'Final(?) session. Anim Trng'. This had been circled and underlined, as if it was something fairly important. She actually remembered the evening indicated fairly well. The Trio had been sitting in their usual corner of the common room, sipping butterbeers, very happy expressions on all three faces. It was memorable as one of the few times over the past few months that she'd seen a genuine smile on his face. Really, she could only think of one other thing that might inspire that kind of grin on Harry's face. As he didn't have a girlfriend, _those_ kind of extra-curricular activities were ruled out.

Just last night, the two of them had gone to Hogsmeade to take care of the last bit of Christmas Shopping each needed to do, when the village was attacked by dementors.

There hadn't been very many, relatively speaking. Just twenty or so had glided down the high street, but that had been enough. Quite a few members of the DA had been there, along with aurors permanently stationed in the wizarding village.

Everybody had been casting the _patronus_ charm for all they were worth, sending silvery shields and animal shapes all about, keeping the foul creatures at bay. Somehow, Ginny had gotten separated from Harry, and become surrounded by dementors. She'd done her best to keep them away, but her own _patronus_ apparently wasn't up to the job. Just like on the Express at the beginning of her second year, she'd heard Tom Riddle's voice, telling her to give in, that Harry could never love a silly, plain, little, girl like her. She'd seen herself strangling the roosters, painting the messages on the wall, speaking the parseltongue commands to open the entrance to the Chamber. She felt the deadly cold as she lay on the stone floor, her life slowly draining from her, the equally cold knowledge that she'd die soon, and Harry with her. She also felt again, the humiliation she felt at knowing that the naivete of her eleven year old self had allowed it all to happen.

These impressions came in a single instant, that seemed to last an eternity.

Just that quick, despite how strong of a witch she was, it overwhelmed her, completely and utterly. Truthfully, she had no earthly idea how she'd escaped them, how she'd survived. The only thing she was sure of was that it had to be down to the raven-haired dishy young wizard currently sleeping in the chair next to her hospital bed.

_Sleeping very cutely, come to that._

_Bad Ginny! Down girl! You gave up on him, remember?_

_That doesn't mean I can't look, now does it?_

She wasn't quite sure _what _to think at this point, so she contented herself with watching him through half-lidded eyes, just in case he awoke suddenly. Harry had acquired the nasty habit of going straight from a sound sleep to wide awake in a nonce. If he did that, she could just drop her lids the rest of the way closed, pretending to be asleep.

She was experienced at all types of Harry-watching, having done as much of it as she could over the past five years or so. She'd watched him studying in the common room, teaching in the DA, teasing Ron and Hermione, or mediating between them. She'd watched him flying, either in a game or just for the sheer joy of it, dueling Malferret in the corridors, and dueling at the Ministry. She'd seen how he grieved, how he brooded, as well as the way he reveled in the family he now had with the Weasleys, and how he bristled even more than she and Ron, when somebody put them down, how he rose to their defense.

By now, she knew almost every expression it was possible for his face to assume. She knew his scowls, frowns, the deliberate way he'd assume an air of nonchalance when faced with Snape's never-ending insults. She knew the smile he got when somebody said something that made him laugh, whether a chuckle or a full-out belly laugh. She remembered the lost look he'd had at the beginning of the past summer, after Sirius was lost. The look of rage he'd had when Bellatrix LeStrange had threatened her with the _Cruciatus_, the determined look on his face when he'd stepped in front of her to block it, and the relieved look on his face, when he'd rescued her from the Chamber. All of these were familiar expressions to her, and she could remember the first time she'd seen each of them.

What she now, though, was something she doubted that many had ever seen. As Harry sat slumped in his chair next to Ginny's hospital bed, he wore a look she never thought she'd ever see on that expressive, mobile, lovely, face.

Peace.

When he looked like that, he actually looked his age of sixteen years old. Usually, awake, he looked much older than most adults. Even at his happiest, there was almost always a seriousness far beyond anything a teenager should even be aware of, much less show. With everything he'd been through already in those sixteen years, it was no surprise. The point had been made, many times upon many, that he'd done and faced things that most grown wizards never would, if they were lucky. He'd faced down Voldemort five times and lived, driven off an attack by over a hundred dementors at once, and slain a great bloody snake, all while attending to his lessons and playing quidditch. Youngest seeker in a century and all that.

Alright, so his grades weren't always the greatest, and he had probably the worst temper of any wizard on the side of the light who wasn't actually a Weasley. Let's not forget that he's also a bit thick when it comes to girls. A bit of a berk sometimes, really. She didn't really care about any of that, besides the fact that it provided for a bit of a challenge. All else being equal, she thought it'd be quite worth it. She saw in him quite a lot of the same qualities she knew her father possessed.

Though an easy-going man most of the time, anyone who thought Arthur Weasley was a pushover would get quite a surprise if they threatened his family. He also had quite a wicked sense of humor when you got him going. He was quite fascinated by muggle things and customs, but no one was better at finding ways of removing malicious spells from those items. He was also generous, sometimes to a fault. Not many people knew that he was actually in the top ten percent at the Ministry, when it came to both tenure and pay. The reason the Weasley family usually had to scrape by on less money than most was down to his generosity. Ginny had found out a few years ago that a large portion of what Arthur made went to various foundations and charities. This wasn't something that their children were supposed to know, especially with as sensitive Ron could be about the money issue. Arthur had even helped to start a couple of them. The Lycan House was the most recent. It was a farm outside of Bristol, where werewolves who couldn't afford the Wolfsbane potion, or who didn't have anywhere else to go, could spend the full moon. They wouldn't have to worry about possibly hurting someone or being alone, when the monthly curse they suffered from struck. The House also had researchers on staff, who had as their sole pursuit the search for a cure for Lycanthropy. The Healers and Potions Masters employed there were some of the few people anybody knew of who actually worked at eliminating the need for their own jobs.

Harry and Ginny had overheard Remus thanking Arthur for starting the foundation that ran the House one night last summer. When the two of them heard this, the young witch had seen the first tears on Harry's face she'd ever known him to have that weren't from losing someone close to him, or from rage. They'd actually been tears of happiness. In all the times she'd indulged in her pastime of Harry-Watching, that was something she'd not seen before. A few days later, there had been an article in the _Daily Prophet_ about a huge donation made in the name of the Marauders to the Lycan House, enough to keep them going in perpetuity. When Remus had asked Harry about it a couple of weeks later, he'd shrugged, claimed not to know anything about it, and taken his Firebolt out to the paddock for a quick fly before dinner. Ginny, as well as she knew the young wizard, knew instantly that he was lying, but didn't say anything. If the former professor and Marauder had any further suspicions, he never mentioned them again, though he did give Harry some strange looks over the rest of the hols.

Ginny had spent nearly an hour watching him like this, lost in thought, when she saw him stir. Until this moment, she hadn't quite understood what Hermione had meant by something she'd said the last time Harry was in the infirmary. Apparently, it had to do with the way muggle computers worked. They were either off, in a zero state, or on, in a one state. She'd said that watching Harry wake up was like nobody else she'd ever known.

"_Most of us take a few minutes to wake up, registering where we are, what's going on around us, what that awful taste in your mouth is, listening for the shower, thinking about what we have to do today, all the things that go through your mind when the alarm goes off in the morning. It takes a few minutes to process everything, all the thoughts, sensations, all the input if you will. Harry on the other hand, goes straight from asleep to awake and aware in a fraction of a second. It's probably something to do with his Defense skills. Probably, it has something to do with being determined to never be caught off his guard ever again." She'd shaken her head, shuddering a bit. "I have to admit, the first time I saw him do it, it was eerie, like watching an android. But once he was awake, he just looked at me and asked if Madame Pomfrey had said anything about when he could go back to the dorm."_

At this moment, she knew exactly what her friend had been talking about. As she watched from half-closed eyes, he went from asleep to completely awake, taking only a split-second to take in his surroundings, assessing everything around him. What stunned the petite witch was the expression he wore as he looked at her. For just a fleeting moment, he had a look of such tenderness and love that it shocked her to her toes. It was a look she knew well, as it was the same one she she saw on her father's face when he looked at her mother, the same one she knew herself to wear, every time she thought of him. Unless he was being a prat, of course. Alright, even then. It wasn't fair, really.

It was there just long enough for her to register it, then his face was back to the mask he usually wore. Not the impassive, detached, face he showed to most of the world, as he knew better than to try that with her. A few well-placed bat-bogey hexes had broken him of that, at least around her. Rather, his face was now schooled into the expression of a concerned friend, as it normally was. He was also worried about her, as was made obvious by the fact that he'd apparently stayed by her bedside all through the night.

"Gin? You awake?" This was asked in a quiet tone, as he evidently didn't want to wake her, just check that she was alright. He'd learned a painful lesson the previous summer, regarding how much of a morning person she was not. After the morning he'd felt her heel connect quite effectively with his...soft tissue, he'd remembered to wake her quietly, gently, and from well out of range.

Ginny moaned a bit and stretched. As her eyes were still closed during this, she missed the sight of his eyes nearly popping from his head in appreciation. He barely had time to get his reaction back under control by the time she finished. The inner dialog that went on in his head would have been quite illuminating, had she known of it.

"_Godric's gonads! When did she grow _those_?"_

"_Cute, aren't they?"_

"_Shut it!"_

"_Hehehe...So...When ya gonna grow a pair and kiss her?"_

"_Argh!"_

He nearly missed her reply to the question he'd almost forgotten asking.

"As awake as I'm going to be, without a cup of tea." The answer was delivered with her infamous puppy-dog eyes, making it a virtual certainty that her tea would soon be forthcoming. Very few people, male or female, could resist her anything when she did that. Harry was of the opinion that turning such an expression on anybody was patently unfair, and should be stopped. Until he figured out a way to do that, it was easier to just give in to her. He rolled his expressive green eyes at her and grinned.

"Actually, Dobby covered it for me already. He knew 'the littlest wheezy' would want tea, so he brought that and some biscuits up a little while ago. They've been under warming and freshness charms since, just waiting for you."

He passed her a cup and some lemon biscuits, the tea fixed just the way she liked it. Thanking him, she sipped for a few minutes, sharing a comfortable silence.

Finally, she broke the quiet. She had to know.

"How bad was it? Was anybody kissed?"

He shook his head. "No, thank Merlin. We were able to drive them off, before they could. A couple close calls, though." He shuddered. "You came the closest, actually. I have to admit, you scared me almost to death."

He laid a hand over her smaller one. For just a split second, she saw a flash of the tenderness that had been there earlier.

"Truthfully, I don't know what I'd have done, if we'd lost you."

She didn't know how to react to this at first. All she could do was turn her hand over to squeeze his. Then, she looked at him, raising an eyebrow with a small smile.

"Do you really think I'm that easy to get shut of, Mr Potter?"

He chuckled, giving her hand one more squeeze before letting go.

"Don't reckon so. Good thing we don't have any plans in that direction, yeah?"

"You'd better not, you prat. Like it or not, the three of you are stuck with me."

"Glad to hear it. Someone's got to keep me in line, right?"

"Too right. We can't let that fan club of yours go to your head, now."

"A fan club which _you_ helped start, if memory serves."

She crossed her arms and glared at him. "I was bloody eleven!"

Harry laughed at the petulant look on her face and chuckled. "Fine, you were eleven. I still owe you. For that." His expression softened, going back to being concerned. "So how are you feeling? You were pretty well out of it all night."

"Not bad, I guess. A bit like I was dragged from the station by a thestral without a coach, but I'll live."

He seemed to be hesitant to speak for a moment, then decided to take the plunge. "Erm, don't take this the wrong way, but would you like some help with practicing your _patronus_ charm? It looked like you were having, well, problems with it?"

Ginny's face lit up in a wide smile. When she smiled like that, there was nothing Harry wouldn't do for her.

"Oh, Harry, I'd love that! I've had problems with it, but I know how much you have going right now. Are you sure you have the time?"

He thought about it a moment, then answered. "We could work on it after the DA meeting tomorrow, and see where you need to go from there. What do you think?"

"That sounds brilliant! I want to work on it, but I don't want to disturb anyone else." She looked pensive for a moment. "How can we be sure that it will work with dementors around?"

"Actually, I have a way around that. It's a little tiring, but works out pretty well."

At her quizzical look, he shook his head.

"I'll show you tomorrow night. It'll take a bit of preparation." With this, the subject was apparently closed for now. "Why don't I leave for a bit, so you can take a quick shower? Mione brought you a bag, with some clean clothes, along with some of your toiletries." He looked at his watch. "I should be back here in about a hour or so, so we'll go down to the kitchens for a bite, then up to the tower, okay?"

She nodded, then as he turned to go, said, "Harry?"

He turned back. "Yeah Gin?"

In a quiet voice she said, "Thanks. Thank you for saving my life again." Giving him a small smile, she said, "That's two life-debts I owe you now, isn't it?"

He shrugged as he came back to her side. "I guess so. Those kind of things don't really mean as much to me as they do to most people." He ran a hand down the side of her face. "As I said, I just don't know what I'd have done if we'd lost you." He gave her the lop-sided grin that always seemed to turn her into mush. "I mean, who else is going to call me a prat when I need it, or have the guts to kick my arse once in a while?" He kissed her lightly on the forehead and stepped back.

"I'll just nip down to the library for a few minutes, as I need to look up something for the meeting tomorrow. I'll be back in a bit."

With that, Harry walked out of the hospital wing, leaving an extremely confused young witch in his wake.

"_He kissed me!"_

"_Not on the lips"_

"_Shut it, you!"_

"_Well?"_

"_Yeah, yeah. I'll get him there."_

"_Suuuuurre you will. You gave up on him, didn't you?"_

"_Hush. That was provisional."_

"_Oooh, big word, there. Very impressive. Provisional on what?"_

"_On him noticing me, and, well, others things..."_

"_What other things, hmmm?"_

As the war of the voices was raging inside Ginny's head, a very similar one was being waged in the corridor outside.

"_I don't believe I kissed her!"_

"_Just one problem, Romeo."_

"_What?"_

"_You missed her _lips_, you idiot! Besides, what happened to finally telling her how you felt?"_

"_Well, erm...I..."_

"_Chickened out again, eh you git?"_

"_I'll tell her. I will."_

"_When?"_

"_..."_

"_That's what I thought. Berk!"_

Shortly after returning to Privet Drive the previous summer, Harry had fallen into a very vicious cycle of self-blame over what had happened at the Ministry. Losing his godfather and seeing his friends hurt had made for the worst start to summer holidays he'd had yet. The fact that he'd relived everything, night after night, combined with the small matter of a certain prophecy, didn't help matters in the least. The only saving grace had been the letters he'd received from Ginny. They'd been a surprise at first, as she'd never written him before. She'd sent them along with Ron's, and later Hermione's, letters. They'd set a different tone from the ones sent by his other two friends, right from the first.

Whereas Ron had obviously made an attempt to stick to innocuous topics, like quidditch, the weather, and the like, and Hermione's were blatant attempts to get him to talk about it all, Ginny's were markedly different. She'd given him news of what the Twins were up to, excerpts of Luna's search for strange and impossible creatures, and progress reports of Ron's attempts to talk himself into confessing his feelings for Hermione. Her letters, in fact, were the only ones that actually made him laugh, that started to draw him out of the self-destructive cycle he had trapped himself in. Interspersed with everything else she wrote, were reminders to him that he could not claim all of the blame for everything that had happened a few weeks previously. She'd begged, bullied, threatened, and cajoled, until he'd finally started to see that, while he might share a part of the blame for the debacle that night had become, it wasn't all his.

Dumbledore could claim a bit of it, for not telling him everything he'd needed to know, not ensuring that Harry was prepared and informed.

Snape could sure as hell have a cupful, for stopping the Occlumency lessons, as well as holding that bloody grudge for sixteen years after James Potter was dead and buried.

Even Sirius could claim a part of it, for not taking that last duel with his skank cousin as seriously as he should have.

Last but not least, was the Dark Tosser himself, as well as his band of moronic sycophants. Truthfully, the largest part of the blame would have to be apportioned to them.

Ginny's letters from the first half of the summer had done so much to bring Harry back from the brink of the abyss he'd been teetering over. The young wizard just didn't have the words to tell her how much she'd done for him, what she meant to him, what he owed her. When he'd arrived at the Burrow the day before his birthday, he'd wanted so much to tell her, but words had failed him. The most he'd managed to muster was a weak thanks, the morning after his birthday party. She'd nodded her welcome and flashed him a brilliant smile, before pulling him into a hug and giving him a kiss on the cheek, before disappearing up the stairs to her room. He'd stood there a moment, a stunned bunny look on his face, before his hand went to where her lips had touched him. A moment later, he'd shaken off the daze, looking quickly around to make sure no one had seen. As far as he could tell, no one had.

Unbeknownst to him, that wasn't quite accurate.


	2. Chapter 2: Contemplations

**Disclaimer:** No matter what the voices in my head might try to say to me, I can claim absolutely no rights to the Potterverse. Only the lovely and talented Ms Rowling, her agents, publishers and film companies can do that. Pity, that.

_Ginny's letters from the first half of the summer had done so much to bring Harry back from the brink of the abyss he'd been teetering over. The young wizard just didn't have the words to tell her how much she'd done for him, what she meant to him, what he owed her. When he'd arrived at the Burrow the day before his birthday, he'd wanted so much to tell her, but words had failed him. The most he'd managed to muster was a weak thanks, the morning after his birthday party. She'd nodded her welcome and flashed him a brilliant smile, before pulling him into a hug and giving him a kiss on the cheek, before disappearing up the stairs to her room. He'd stood there a moment, a stunned bunny look on his face, before his hand went to where her lips had touched him. A moment later, he'd shaken off the daze, looking quickly around to make sure no one had seen. As far as he could tell, no one had._

_Unbeknownst to him, that wasn't quite accurate._

**Contemplations**

The youngest Weasley male had seen what had happened, and witnessed the look that had come over his best friend's face. Contrary to what the residents of Gryffindor Tower might suspect, Ron wasn't incensed, enraged, or even angry at this turn of events.

In fact, the best word to describe his state of mind at this point would have to be elated. This was the reason he and the Twins had spent a good portion of the past two years threatening and hexing nearly every boy in Hogwarts that even looked at their sister. They'd decided a while back that Harry would be the only one who would ever be good enough for her. After all, he was nearly the only male in the castle that had never teased her over the Valentine that had been sent to him back in second year, and he'd been the one with a disgruntled dwarf sitting on his legs, having to hear the whole thing. He'd always been nice to her, no matter how much she'd embarrassed him. He'd also saved her life in the Chamber that same year, and stopped Bellatrix LeStrange from casting the _Cruciatus_ on her, in the Department of Mysteries. The two of them shared a connection that Ron wasn't even sure Harry was aware of, both of them having all too intimate knowledge of Voldemort. Too, there was the fact that Ginny was the only one not afraid to back down from Harry's temper, being very volatile in her own right. There had been quite a few times during the last school year when she'd dragged him off his high horse, letting him know just how much of a prat he was being. Strangely enough, he'd taken it from her, where he likely would've hexed anyone else who'd said the same things too him. Also, from comments Sirius had made during the time they were all at Grimmauld Place, Potter males usually fell for red headed witches. His father, grandfather, and great-grandfather had all married women with vividly red hair. Put simply, it was inevitable.

The only time Ron had wavered from the plan was during the beginning of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, back in fourth year. For a short time, his jealousy had gotten the better of him. Thankfully, he'd finally gotten past that particular emotion. Any envy or jealousy he'd held onto, due to Harry's money, fame, or any of the other supposed advantages Ron had perceived Harry held, had died a painful death after the abortive trip to the Ministry of Magic. Seeing Harry lose one of the last links to his parents had really brought it home to his friend. That was when he finally believed what Harry had said along, that he'd trade all the gold in his vault, just to have a family like Ron's. That was the moment when he decided that do everything he could to be the kind of friend Harry deserved, the kind of friend Harry had been all along. Part of that decision was his determination that, one way or another, Harry and Ginny would be together. They were good for each other, and would be good together. They just needed each other.

Harry still had a slightly stunned look on his face when he entered Ron's room a few minutes later. Ron was trying to conceal the slightly smug look that wanted to decorate his face, and managed to look fairly casual. He couldn't wait to tell Hermione about that look when he saw her the next morning. Getting Harry together with Ginny was one of the few things they always agreed on, especially after he and Mione had gotten together. He knew she'd be as happy as he was over this turn of events.

As it happened, Ron needn't have worried about concealing anything at the moment, as Harry was more than a bit pre-occupied. His mind was a whirl of conflicting emotions, not the least of which was, "_Nimue's nipples! When did she get all those curves? When did she get so pretty?"_

"_Hello, idiot! She's been pretty all along! It's just taken you this long to figure it out. Bloody thick, aren't you?"_

"_Sod off, you!"_

"_Just telling the truth. I mean really, she's liked you forever."_

"_Yeah well, not anymore. She gave up, remember?"_

"_Whatever. Cute little bum she's got, isn't it?"_

"_Yeah. Now, shut it!"_

Ron chose this moment to break into his thoughts.

"So Harry, that was quite the hug you two just had, eh?"

"Erm, yeah." He shrugged. "I just thanked her for the letters she sent over the summer. They really helped a lot."

"So...did you see where our Hogwarts letters said there'd be a ball this year?"

"Yeah, I did." Rolling his eyes, he commented, "Just what we need, huh?"

"Oh, I dunno. I already know who I'm going to ask. Takes loads of pressure off, having a girlfriend. Know who you're going to ask?"

"Hadn't given it much thought, really. Dunno if I'm even going. Why?"

"No reason. Just please tell me it won't be Cho this year?"

Harry laughed at the pleading tone in his best mate's voice. "I think I can guarantee that." He looked thoughtful as he continued. "Like I said, I don't know if I'll even go. It was hard enough getting a date for the last one. In case you hadn't noticed, my dating history isn't exactly stellar. Both dates I've had so far were about as close to an unmitigated disaster as you can get without actual bloodshed. I ignored Parvati at the Yule Ball after the first dance, and I don't even want to think about Valentine's Day with Cho." Just the thought of it was enough to make him shudder. "To be honest, Madame Puddifoot's is still the locale for some of my more normal nightmares."

At this, Ron laughed, until Harry continued with, "I just hope Hermione doesn't decide she wants to go in there, just to see what all the fuss is about."

Ron's eyes went wide, his jaw dropped, and the color drained from his face at a spectacular rate.

"No mate. You don't think...she wouldn't...oh Merlin." The last came out in a very quiet voice, quite different from his normal delivery. It was all Harry could do, to keep from laughing outright.

The rest of the evening was spent in devising ways to ensure that a certain bushy-haired brilliant young witch never got the urge to check that particular tea shop out.

This had distracted Ron for the rest of that night, but he had spent much of the intervening time dropping hints that Harry should ask Ginny out. Of course, Ron being Ron, his hints were almost as subtle as a flaming, neon pink, bludger, the size of a lorry. Almost. Harry was convinced that she no longer had any interest in him, aside from as a friend. Harry did his best to ignore these helpful hints, no matter what Ron tried to tell him.

It wasn't that the ebon-haired wizard wasn't interested. Far from it. From the moment of that innocent kiss at the Burrow, he was extremely aware of Ginny, and of the effect that just her very presence had on him. He didn't want to think of the number of times he'd almost flown his Firebolt straight into the ground when she was in sight. The worst was the day he'd been in the middle of a Wronski Feint, just ten feet from the ground, and saw her emerge from the pond, wearing a very small bright green two piece swimsuit. At seeing this, he was surprised that his short-circuited brain had allowed him to avoid crashing. It had been a near thing, though. As it was, he bounced off the ground, still on his broom. This was almost as painful as a full-out crash, but at least he stayed airborne. Ron had asked him if he was trying a new Wronski variant, smirking all the while. Harry had replied with an extremely rude gesture, and an anatomically impossible suggestion. Hermione had yelled at him, but she'd been smirking at him as well. Harry was just grateful that Ginny had noticed none of it.

One of the major benefits of having resumed Occlumency training upon their return to school for the next term had been the fact that, no matter what effect she had on him, he was now able to conceal it. That was possibly the only thing preventing him from turning into a gibbering idiot every time he was around her. If not for that, it just wouldn't have been a pretty picture. Not at all.

The fact that Ron had sussed out Harry's feelings for Ginny didn't help matters either, not at all. At every opportunity that presented itself, Ron started in on him, telling him he needed to ask her out. Harry continued to point out that, according to Hermione, Ginny had given up on him, as evidenced by the boys she'd dated. Ron still persisted in insisting that nobody knew his sister like he did, and that she still fancied Harry. This circular argument had endured all through the rest of summer hols, and had gone through the three and a half months since the fall term had started, showing no signs of letting up in the near future. Frankly, the distant future didn't look to hold much promise either.

This was where things stood as the sixteen year old made his way to Mrs Pince's domain. At the start of term, Dumbledore had given Harry and Hermione each a blanket authorization to peruse the Restricted Section of the library, and both frequently took advantage of it. This way, it would be much easier to find things for the DA, as well as looking into ways of beating Voldemort, hopefully soon. That's how they had come across the tomes on the animagus transformation, wandless magic, blood magic, and even more arcane topics. All had been useful in one way or another. Just one example was the protections that had been devised for Hermione's parents. With all the attacks on muggle-born witches and wizards and their families, she had nearly been driven to distraction with worry, especially as she was known to be very outspoken in her support of the Light. The fact that she was the first known witch from her family, along with the fact that she was the brightest witch of her year, made it almost a certainty that the Grangers would be targeted at some point. Between Harry and Hermione, they had come up with a combination of blood magic, a modified _Fidelius_ charm, and some wards of their own devising, that would keep them safe for as long as would be needed, without disrupting their lives. In the end, the combined forces of Alastor Moody, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, and Filius Flitwick, some of the most accomplished users alive, had been unable to locate them, even knowing in advance the general area where the couple should be. A week later, none of them even remembered making the attempt. Given the knowledge, power, and abilities of this august group, this was enough security to give even Hermione peace of mind.

Harry looked up a few things, taking notes as he went. Though the notes were extremely detailed and thorough, his mind wasn't even close to being on spells or hexes. Rather, it was on a certain red-headed young witch, who should even now be on her way into the shower in the infirmary. He was picturing how peaceful she'd looked as she'd slept that morning. That was a much safer mental image than the other one that was trying to make it's way into his head, one involving the aforementioned shower. Thoughts of her in the hospital wing led to the reason she was there.

When he had seen her collapse in the middle of the dementors the night before, he had nearly come undone. It was a very good thing that most of the DA had been present, as his _patronus_ had left the other dementors alone, going straight for the quintet surrounding Ginny.

The strange part had happened as it had reached that particular group of the foul creatures. In his fear at losing Ginny to them, feeling his love for her as something basic, fundamental and raw, Prongs had nearly doubled in size, taking on a gold tinge, and appearing to be almost solid. When he reached the dementors, he didn't just push them back, as would usually happen. Rather, he lowered his head and charged at them, hooking them on his antlers, seeming to gore them. As he did so, they let out a scream, a sound that nobody in living memory had ever heard from them. Accompanying the screams were tearing and rending sounds, along with a noxious odor. When he'd charged through all five of them, he rapidly made his way through those dementors that hadn't scattered at hearing the screams from their fellows. Within a matter of seconds, he stood next to Ginny again, standing guard until Harry could make his way to her. Gently, Harry had gathered Ginny in his arms, and triggered the portkey he wore, and was transported to the infirmary.

Ron and Hermione had stayed at his side, waiting to make sure that Ginny would be alright, only leaving once Molly Weasley had arrived. After checking on the condition of her only daughter, she'd engulfed Ron, Hermione, and Harry in one of her famous hugs, checking on them as well. Of course, all three had to restrain the urge to check their ribs after she was done, but all had practice in this. Molly was always a very exuberant woman when it came to the affection she showed to those she loves, and this occasion was no exception. The Headmaster had done all he could to assure her of Ginny's condition, but she had to see for herself. After all, a mother just knows. Once she was secure in this knowledge, she'd thanked Harry profusely for saving her baby girl's life, once more. By the time she'd finished singing his praises, Harry had worn a blush worthy of any Weasley. Hermione was beaming with pride for the young man she'd always considered to be a brother to her, and Ron was sniggering softly into his hand at the red hues on his best mate's complexion. He knew that this was one of the few people he couldn't turn down praise from, as she simply wouldn't stand for it.

An hour after she'd arrived, she realized that it was getting close to time for breakfast. She'd chivvied Ron and Hermione up to the dorms for their showers, and to go change clothes, as they still wore what they had after the attack. She said that she'd meet them in the Great Hall for breakfast in a bit, once they'd made themselves presentable again. She'd tried the same with Harry, but he'd managed to beg off, promising to go with Ginny down to the kitchens as soon as she awoke.

"Molly, we'll see you in a while, yeah? You'll be around later?"

She'd nodded and replied, "Of course I will. With Arthur at work, the Twins at their shop, and all the jumpers for the holidays finished, there's nothing much to do at home right now. I think I'll spend a nice day here with all of you. We'd better see you both in the common room later." Before he could respond, he was once again wrapped in her arms. "Thanks again, Harry. I just don't know what we'd have done if..." As her voice trailed off, all he could do was nod in response.

As the Weasley matriarch walked out of the infirmary, she heard a very quiet "Me either, mum." As happy as she was to hear him refer to her that way, she was even more intrigued to hear the emotion in that whispered statement. Hopefully, it meant what she thought it might. She filed it away for further contemplation. She'd have to see what Ron had to say about this. Happily, she went on her way down to the Great Hall, leaving Harry to wait for Ginny to wake.

Making his way back from the infirmary from the library, Harry was too busy mulling everything over, and not paying sufficient attention to everything around him. It took him by surprise then, when an arm snaked out from a doorway, pulling him into an empty classroom.

**_A/N:_** Just a few quick things here. For those that have asked, LCaS will be completed. Really and for true. Unfortunately, I didn't do the same that I did with this one, and write out the whole story before even thinking about typing it up. This story is actually completely written (save final edits & expansions on a few things), and should, hopefully, be typed up and submitted in good time. In the notebook, it totals about a hundred pages, though the total word count will be more once it's typed up. There will be quite a bit of fluff coming, and a surprise or two. I do have two chapters that I'm working on for LCaS, as well as one that I'm finishing for mine and my lovely wife's jointly written story, so I hope to have them ready to post fairly soon. The next one for this story should be posted later today, as long as RL doesn't intrude too much. I'm glad everybody seems to be enjoying this one so far. Please let me know what you think.


	3. Chapter 3: Not as Dotty as they think

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, no matter what the plot ferrets think of it. Barmy little buggers they are, yeah?

_Making his way back from the infirmary from the library, Harry was too busy mulling everything over, and not paying sufficient attention to everything around him. It took him by surprise then, when an arm snaked out from a doorway, pulling him into an empty classroom._

**Not as dotty as they think**

Harry's hand whipped to the wand holster in his sleeve, and he had a spell almost to his lips before he realized who had snatched him. Re-holstering his wand, he put his hands over his face and leaned back against a convenient desk. Finally, with a look of exasperation, he looked at the usually dotty blond witch in front of him.

"Luna, what in Salazar's slimy sphincter is wrong with you? Do you have _any_idea how close you just came to getting seriously hurt?"

She had her arms crossed and was tapping her foot on the floor, fixing him with an unusually direct glare.

"When are you going to get off of your silly arse and tell Ginevra how you feel about her?"

"Hmmm...let me think. Well, how's the second Tuesday of next week sound? I'll make room in my planner for it, why don't I?" The sarcasm was fairly dripping off of him.

"Nope. Not nearly soon enough. You have to tell her."

"Luna, just leave off, please. I'm not saying a damn thing about it to her. Even if she still felt like that about me, I still wouldn't."

"Why not?"

The stubborn look on her face, along with the obvious concern and genuine longing to know, made up his mind. With all she'd done to help him after the fiasco at the Ministry, he owed her the truth. He cast a quick silencing charm on the room, followed by a locking charm on the doors and windows, followed up by a strong sealing charm over everything. It didn't escape Luna's notice that he hadn't drawn his wand to do any of the spells, nor even said the incantations. She only knew what he'd done by the changed feel of the room.

Tiredly, Harry removed his glasses and placed them beside him on the desk. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, then ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. The young man looked at Luna, peering into her eyes. To her, it felt like he was staring into her very soul, possibly to judge her or her intentions. The blond witch had no worries, as she was rooted firmly in the Light. She knew without doubt that he'd be able to tell that as well. How she knew this, she wasn't sure, just that she knew it. Finally, he nodded, seemingly satisfied with what he saw there.

"Alright. Remember the prophecy at the Ministry? The one that snakeface wanted so bad?" At her nod, he continued. "Well, what smashed was just a recording of the original. The person who originally heard it was able to to show it to me. I won't go into the details, but what it boils down to is this: It's him or me. He either has to die by my hand, or I do, by his. Basically, I get to be either victim or murderer. Is that the kind of thing any normal girl wants to involve herself with? Would it be fair to involve _anybody_ in something like this?"

At this, he seemed to deflate, all sarcasm and venom gone.

Luna thought for a few moments, mulling over what he'd revealed to her. Finally, she spoke.

"May I ask a couple questions?"

With a resigned air, he replied with a sigh. "Sure. I can't guarantee any answers, but go ahead."

"Alright. First, why are your glasses sitting on the desk, rather than on your face? Don't you need them to see?"

With a lop-sided grin, Harry replied. "Actually, no. I went to a muggle eye surgeon over the summer, and they fixed my vision. They have a new procedure, using lasers. The lenses now are just clear glass, from a theatrical prop house. The only others who know about it are Ron and Hermione, so don't say anything, right?"

"Of course not. I may be a bit loony at times, but I'm not stupid. I'd not have made it into Ravenclaw if I was. Good idea, by the way. I've often noticed that a lot of wizards and witches have a bit of a blind spot, so to speak, when it comes to taking advantage of anything muggles come up with. True, they have some extremely strange ideas at times, but some are truly brilliant.

"About the prophecy, though. Are you absolutely sure it's got to be you?"

"Actually, that's the only part I'm completely positive of. I won't say why, but I'm confident of it."

She nodded, taking his word for it. "Okay, then. Did it say how you're supposed to do it, or just that you have to?"

"Not in so many words. It basically said that I have some 'power the dark lord knows not', or some such nonsense. No clue about what it's supposed to be."

"Any ideas?"

"Dumbledore seems to think it's something to do with love." Shrugging, he said, "Which basically leave me pretty much buggered."

"How so?"

He grimaced. "I forgot, you don't know my 'family'. After Voldemort killed my mum and dad, and tried to kill me, the only family I had left were my Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Because it was my mum's sacrifice that saved my life, living with her sister invoked some sort of blood protection, and that is what apparently kept the Dark Tosser from being able to find me.

"The problem is that they absolutely despise anything to do with magic or our world. That includes my parents, and by extension, me. That means that while I may have learned quickness and good reflexes, to avoid my _dear_ cousin Dudley, not to mention my uncle on the nights when he'd had to much to drink, I know bugger all about love. They never showed me any love, never taught me a bloody thing about it, strongly discouraged questions about anything, and made damn sure that I knew that I was there only out of the 'goodness of their hearts'. In fact, the only thing they ever really taught me was that I was better off taking care of myself, and that love is better left to others." His voice dropped as he finished the thought, his gaze off in the distance. "Maybe for those who'll be around after it's all done."

Luna heard the longing her friend tried to keep from his voice. The information about his relatives explained a lot of things. She'd been spending a lot more time around the Golden Trio this term, along with Neville and Ginny, and had noticed how much he worked at fading into the shadows, trying to make sure his friends got all the credit for things. She'd even seen him doing this with things that were obviously his doing. She'd seen the new brooms that Ron and Ginny were both riding in games now, and knew their family's financial situation. There was no way that Arthur Weasley had the galleons to spare for expensive racing brooms like those. Only one person she knew had that much cash to spare. The way way he tried to cover the good things he did, redirect the attention elsewhere, or outright deny responsibility for things that couldn't be done by anyone other than him, all led to a disturbing conclusion. It was as if he didn't think he was deserving of good attention, only the bad. She was almost afraid to confirm her suspicions, and wanted to see if she couldn't help to get that idea out of his head. If she couldn't do it, she knew who could. A certain petite red-haired friend of hers, to be exact.

She moved in front of him, close enough that, unless he completely turned away from her, he couldn't help but see her. When she was sure she had his complete attention, she spoke.

"Let's get the most ridiculous part of this whole thing out of the way, first.

"Of course no normal woman is going to want to be involved in everything that's gone on in your life. That's a bit obvious, if you think about it.

"However, I think you've overlooked something, just as obvious. Nobody who hangs around with you could be considered anything even remotely close to normal. First, there's your two best friends.

"Hermione Granger is the smartest witch to attend this school or any other, in the past twenty years. There are only two people in that time to get a higher mark than her, and that's only in one class, which I'll get back to in a minute. I'll tell you, it frustrates most of Ravenclaw to no end, trying to figure out how she ended up in Gryffindor." She saw the look on Harry's face at this, and held up a hand, asking him to wait. "Having seen the way she handled herself last June, both with Umbridge and at the Ministry, I have no doubt that she is a true Gryff, in the best sense of the word.

"Next, we have Ronald Weasley. From what Ginevra has said, as the youngest of six sons, he's spent most of his life in the shadow of the rest of them, not to mention being the best friend of somebody who's probably the most well-known wizard in the world at this point in time. He's done fairly well with it, now that he's finally past all that sticky jealousy. He's a brilliant chess player, an excellent Quidditch strategist, and a very good wizard in his own right, when he bothers to turn his brain to the 'on' position.

"The two of them together are enough to drive Merlin himself to distraction, whether they're arguing or snogging. The very fact that both are done in full view of the world explains why most people have a tendency to scarper, every time they enter a room. But, when the two of them work together on something, especially when they get behind you, they're a force to be reckoned with. I doubt that there's anything you couldn't do, when you three work together.

"Neville Longbottom has gone from being seen as practically a squib, to somebody only slightly less scary to duel with than you. With his new wand, the practice he's gotten in the DA, and the self-confidence you've given him just by being his friend, has made him someone that even the Malfoy twit won't go up against. With the working out you recommended to him, he's also become more than a bit dishy.

"I, in the words of the Red Queen, believe in six impossible things before breakfast, and seven on Sundays, just to get the week started right. Most everybody around here calls me loony, and probably with good reason. I believe that, when it all comes to an end, if you didn't enjoy yourself as much as possible, you've wasted entirely too much time. That why I don't much care what people think of my, besides a select few. To be honest, it's quite freeing.

"Then there's Ginevra. She's the youngest and the only girl, out of a family with six sons, all older. Despite being a bit of a tomboy, or maybe because of it, she's one of the most feminine I've ever know, girl or woman. She's also one of the most remarkable, most mature people I've ever known.

"She first fell for you at five years old, the first time she heard your story. Then, at ten, she saw you for the first time, and it was only reinforced. She saw how scared you were, though you hid it well, and how very alone you were. Once the train was underway, she told her mum that she hoped you'd make friends with Ronald, Fred and George, because she could see how lonely you were, and wanted to make sure that there was someone to love you.

"When you saved her life in your second year, she decided that she was going to rid herself of that crush she had on you, once and for all. She was sure that it was only good for two things. One was to embarrass you, and the other was to put you in danger. I believe she's still quite convinced that, had she loved anyone else, you would never have been put in that position. She feels quite guilty about it to this day.

"During your fourth year, I lost track of how many times I had to hold her back from hexing Ronald, for the way he treated you before that first task. She, just like Hermione, could tell right off that you hadn't entered your name for that idiotic tournament. You never needed, nor wanted, the attention that brought you. I really can't tell you how scared she was for you, all the way through that year. Of course, she felt quite hurt when you asked Cho to the Yule Ball, and were so heart-broken to be turned down. Even if Neville had already asked her, it was still the fact that she was right there in front of you, wearing her heart on her sleeve for you. When you were still hung up on Cho last year, she decided that it was finally time to try to put it all behind her. No matter how much she loved you, she was going to do her best to give up on you. To be honest, I'm really not sure how well tha6t's worked.

"Now, the other thing you said. In your words, you have the choice between being murderer or victim, right?"

Looking very weary, Harry said, "Yeah, that about sums it up."

"Did you know that before Azkaban Fortress was staffed with dementors and converted into a prison, those who used the _Cruciatus, _the killing curse, serial rapists, and convicted murderers were subjected to capital punishment?"

"No, but I guess it makes sense. What does this have to do with anything?" The young wizard was starting to get a bit impatient, as he didn't have much more time before he was supposed to meet Ginny. He just hoped that Luna would get to whatever point she was trying to make, and soon.

"Have you ever thought about the people who had to carry out those sentences? I mean, executioners were among the very few people authorized the use of the Killing Curse."

"No, I hadn't. Why?"

"Tell me this. Would you consider the executioner to be a murderer? Do you think anybody else would consider them as such?"

"No, of course not. They had a job to do, and that was a part of..." His voice trailed off at what he heard himself saying. The strange but sweet blond had given him much to think about.

She let him stew over this for a few minutes, then asked in a soft voice, "Harry, do you see my point? That's exactly what we will all think of you, once you take him down. You have a job to do, and nobody will think any less of you for it, with the possible exception of yourself. We all know how loving, caring, and generous of a spirit you are, and nobody who knows you could ever imagine that you would imagine that part of your job. It's something you have to do, you will do, and then you will live your life afterwards, free from the shadow of some evil dark lord.

"I'm going to tell you something, and at first, it'll sound a bit strange. Par for the course for me, right?" At his chuckle, she continued. "Hearing what you have to do fills me with sadness for you, but it also makes me very optimistic. That's because for anyone who would have to do this thing, whoever it is, will be in a position where they could easily step into Voldemort's shoes and take over where he left off. With you, I'm not worried about that at all." Luna took Harry's hands, giving them a squeeze to emphasize her point. "You, Harry Potter, are an essentially good person. If that weren't the case, you would've put both Snape and Malfoy through the wall years ago. Not that I wouldn't mind seeing that at some point." She shrugged. "I suspect that they'll put themselves into a situation where it'll happen, eventually. Somebody will decide at some point, that they have finally had enough of the two of them, and we'll be short two greasy gits."

At this statement, Harry couldn't help but laugh at her imagery. Just the way she put things, sometimes. After a moment, he replied. "Alright, Luna, I concede the point that I'm about as likely to go dark as Snape is to go to Gryffindor Tower, looking to join the Harry Potter Fan Club. What makes you think that Ginny and I should be together?"

"For most people, building a life means starting a family. In order to do that, you're going to need to find somebody to settle down with. Would you rather find someone giggly and gossipy, like Lavender Brown, sweet and passive like Hannah Abbott, or somebody strong, with a real sense of humor, like Ginevra?"

Harry had his face in his hands by now. "Luna! You know I want to be with Ginny, not any of those others!"

"Then what's the problem? If you know you want to be with her, why aren't you?"

"The real problem is that anybody I date is automatically going to be right under me on Voldemort's to-do list. I don't want to subject anybody to that, least of all her!" His voice dropped, and Luna had to strain to hear what he said next, though the plaintive tone was quite clear. "I just can't lose anyone else I love."

"Harry, I just want you to think about two things. First, her last name happens to be Weasley. Her family has always been, and will continue to be, deeply involved in the struggle against the Dark. They've always been targets, and always will be, for as long as Voldemort exists. With or without you.

"Second, as the Headmaster said at the start of term feast, we are at war. In times of war, as much as we might wish otherwise, people are killed. We will all lose friends, family, and loved ones. With that in mind, isn't it better to use what time we have to create memories that we can keep with us for the rest of our days, enjoying the time we have with them, rather than always wondering what might have been?

"I know which I prefer, and which Ronald and Hermione do, as well. I think you know more of love than you think you do. All you need to do is admit it to yourself."

With that, Luna stood and headed for the door. Trying the knob, she realized that Harry's sealing charm was still in place. She turned back to him.

"Harry, would you mind lifting the charm? I'd like to go now."

With a smirk, he replied. "Sure. Just one question. You mentioned two students with a higher grade than Mione. Who?"

"I'd've thought it obvious, really. You and Ginevra. Both in DADA."

With that, she disappeared down the corridor, leaving a stunned Harry to stare after her.

_**A/N:**_ Just a quick note or two. It's not often that I write cliffies into my stories, mainly because I know how they irritate me, primarily due to the fact that some people take forever to update stories after leaving their characters hanging. _Cough_Jeconais_cough_TMW_cough_ Sorry about that. Guess I need a throat lozenge or something. (grin) Seeing as I knew I would be updating this later the same day, I didn't think it would be all that unforgivable. The fun part was seeing the guesses, as to whose arm that was. The strange part is that nobody got it. Hehehe Another chapter or two should be up tomorrow or the next day. I hope you're all enjoying this so far, and please continue to let me know what you think of it. Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4: Questioning Beliefs

**Disclaimer:** Not even in my wildest dreams (not those, you little perv! You know who you are. Mind! Gutter! Out!), can I lay claim to anything that the genius of Ms Rowling has created.

**Beliefs Questioned**

Harry Potter was one confused young wizard. Ironically enough, the person who usually made less sense than a Nerf bludger had come up with the most logical argument yet _for_ him to date Ginny, and when you consider that was compared to Hermione, that was saying a lot. Quite honestly, it scared him a bit. Luna making sense, according to Neville, was a sure sign that a Seal had been broken, somewhere, and a certain grumpy red-skinned, horned individual with a pitchfork and a goatee was busily buying ice skates in job lots.

Before he knew it, he was back at the doors to the infirmary. He paused a moment, using his Occlumency skills to school his expression back into that of a concerned friend, and pushed through the doors.

Ginny, knowing him as well she she did, could tell that something wasn't quite right, as he made his way to her side.

"Alright there, Harry?"

He nodded and said, "Never better, Gin. You?"

"Yeah, fine thanks." She still wasn't sure if what she'd seen for a moment was real or imagined.

"Good. Ready to head down to the kitchens?"

"Yes. Just give me a hand up, and we can go."

On the way down, Harry held lightly onto her arm the whole time, steadying her. Had it been anyone else coddling her this way, they would've been given a piece of the fiery young witch's mind. However, as this was the selfsame wizard she'd hoped, for far longer than she wished to remember, would notice her, she allowed it. Indeed, she reveled in it. Put quite simply, she enjoyed the attention.

Once the painting leading to the kitchens had admitted them, it only took a moment, as usual, for Harry to be tackled around the knees. Luckily, he had long ago learned that he needed to brace himself against Dobby's exuberant, highly enthusiastic, greetings. This in mind, he'd grabbed onto the work table next to the door, immediately after entering.

"Master Harry is a great wizard to visit Dobby and Winky in the kitchens, and he brings his Miss Wheezy with him, too! What would Master Harry and Miss Wheezy like to be eating?"

Harry gently disentangled himself from the excited house-elf.

"First off, what have I told you about calling me 'Master', Dobby?"

"Not to."

"Right. Do you know what Hermione would do to me if she heard me allowing you to call me 'Master'?

"She would send you to the big, bad, dark, evil, ugly, wizard early?"

"You got it. I'll tell you what, Dobby. If you really have to use some sort of title for me, how about 'Mister'?"

The little elf contemplated this for a moment, then asked, "You won't get mad at this 'Mister', and Miss Hermi won't send you to bad wizard?"

"Exactly. Alright?"

The excitable little creature was happy to have reached an agreement, and nodded vigorously in agreement, his ears flapping as he did so.

"Very good, Mister Harry Potter, sir. May I get you something to eat?"

Harry turned to Ginny, hearing the giggles that she was trying valiantly to keep in. "Shut it, you." he growled at her. He turned back to Dobby and said, "Some cocoa and biscuits for me, and something a bit more substantial for Giggle Girl, here. She's missed breakfast."

Dobby raced off to collect the drinks and foodstuffs for his very favorite wizard and for the beautiful witch with him, keeping up a running commentary as he did so.

Harry and Ginny made their way to their favorite table on the side wall. The two of them had made many trips down here since term had started, and had discovered early on that they preferred having a table away from the door, out of the way of the elves. They had developed the tendency to come down here at all hours of the night and day. It made for a nice place to escape to, one that not many would think to check. He made sure she was seated comfortably before taking his own seat across from her. A moment later, Dobby, followed by Winky, appeared at the table, filling the table with plates of sandwiches, biscuits, crisps, soup for Ginny, and their requested drinks.

The two shared a companionable silence as they made a respectable dent in what they'd been brought. Every so often, Ginny would chuckle, muttering something about 'Miss Hermi', and her sending Master Harry off to the the big bad dark wizard.

As they finished, Harry shook his head at the petite red-head. "Glad the mental image of that amuses you so, Miss Wheezy. Ready to go up to the Tower?"

"But of course, Master Harry Sir." She could no longer hold back, and the peals of her laughter echoed off the walls of the corridors, as they made there way back to their common room.

Late that night, Harry lay back on his four-poster, in a surprisingly still full dorm. Usually over Christmas Hols, most everybody went home to be with their loved ones. This year however, with the war that was being waged, not to mention the ball that was to be held on Christmas Eve, most of the students had stayed back. While Harry didn't have a date himself, he couldn't begrudge anyone else the opportunity to take hold of whatever joy they could find in these perilous times. He was glad that Ron and Hermione had each other. They would need the support each could offer the other in the dark times to come.

The two of them would probably find a way to talk him into attending the ball, no matter how he tried to skive off. They wouldn't be able to bear the thought of him sitting up in the tower all by himself. He'd already decided that he'd allow them to talk him into it anyway. He might make it seem that the only reason was so they'd lay off, but he had another reason entirely.

That reason was something else. Some_one_ else, actually. Ginny, again. He remembered how beautiful she'd looked at the last ball, two years ago. Though it had seemed as if he hadn't noticed her, he had. He'd even surprised himself at how much he'd noticed about her that night, when he stopped to think about it.

He'd remembered how perfectly her dress robes had fit, how her hair looked, even down to things he knew most boys his age wouldn't have. The color of her nails, the fact that she'd worn almost no make-up (nor needed it) or jewelry, the faint scent of jasmine and cinnamon as she'd walked by.

As a matter of fact, it was that same scent that played havoc with his senses, every time he spent any time in close proximity to her now. That, and the fact that she'd developed the most wondrous curves over the past year or so. Very distracting. Really, it was a good thing that most of the students didn't wear much in the way of muggle clothes, preferring robes mist of the time. He wasn't sure what his reaction would've been, if he'd seen anything else the same shade of green as the swimsuit she'd worn that day at the Burrow. Probably best not to think about it, really.

Ever since that innocent kiss on the cheek the morning after his birthday, he'd gone back and forth with himself over whether or not it was a good thing to spend time alone with her. He loved it when it was just the two of them, when he had her all to himself. But, that's where the problem lay. He didn't 'have her all to himself'. She wasn't his, and he didn't know if she ever would be.

"_Well, at the rate you're going right now, she never will be."_

"_Leave off. It'll never happen. She's over me."_

"_You berk. Did you listen to a thing Luna said? She said 'gave up', not 'got over'."_

"_Even if that's true, do you have any idea how much of a risk it would be to her?"_

"_Again I ask, were you listening at all? You and Ginny have the best marks in DADA in twenty years or more. She can take care of herself, you idiot!"_

"_I still have no business dragging her into situations where she _has _to defend herself!"_

"_Alright you pillock. Let me put it into simple enough words that even you can get it. You did not drag her to the Ministry. She all but forced you to accept that she was going along!"_

With that reminder, the voice in Harry's head shut up for the night, definitely leaving him with quite a bit to think about. So much so, in fact, that he only managed to get a couple hours of sleep that night.

Ginny lay in her own bed that night, just as confused. For the second time that day, Harry had managed to confuse the hell out of her.

They had spent the day with her family, as well as Hermione. The headmaster had even thought to have Dobby bring lunch and dinner up to the common room for the group. He'd claimed, with a twinkle in his eyes, that it was so that they could all relax. Personally, she was of the opinion that it was more likely that he feared the wrath of Madame Pomfrey. She suspected that the Medi-witch had told him in no uncertain terms was Ginny to walk to the Great Hall, so soon after leaving her tender mercies. She'd probably given him chapter and verse as to what the consequences might be to him, otherwise. Greatest wizard of the age he might be, but he was also wise enough to know that she was not a woman to cross.

Even Ginny, whose temper was formidable in it's own right, wasn't going to test the patience of Madame Pomfrey. She could bend _Harry_ to her will for Merlin's sake. Even the darkest wizard of the age could only manage to do that for a second or two. As far as Ginny was concerned, Tom didn't count. Harry would kick his snaky scaly arse one of these days. The only question in her mind was where and when.

One of the more interesting moments of the night had been right after Dobby had laid everything out for them. Harry had thanked Dobby, as usual.

The house-elf had started to respond, "You're welcome, Mas-_Mister _Harry Potter." Both had looked at Hermione, to see if she'd caught what had almost been said, each half-cringing. Luckily, she hadn't, as Ron's appetite seemed to have it's usual morbid fascination for her. She'd once compared it to a train wreck you couldn't look away from, no matter how much you wanted to. Truthfully, she wasn't far wrong.

At seeing the semi-guilty, then relieved looks on Harry and Dobby's faces, Ginny again couldn't help but to giggle at the two of them, interspersed with almost inaudible murmurs about 'big, bad, dark, evil wizards'. After about ten minutes of this, her mum was convinced she'd taken a blow to the head when she'd fallen in front of the dementors. With a resigned nod from Harry, she explained to the group what was causing her hysterics. At the reproachful look on Hermione's face, her giggles resumed anew, especially after Harry said that Mione was now likely to send Ginny with him.

What had her confused at the moment was the way Harry had acted all day. When she's seen him at her bedside in the hospital wing, she'd been convinced she was dreaming. The only one to ever do that for her, besides her mum, was Ron. For Harry to _voluntarily_ spend time in the hospital wing was unheard of.

After that ponce Lockheart had deboned his arm like a Christmas ham a couple of years ago, Harry had been out of there as fast as he could, never mind that the Skele-Grow had barely finished working. Later that year, after the basilisk, she wasn't sure he'd been in there at all, except to visit her in the middle of the night. It was like he'd had to reassure himself that she was really out of there and recovering. To this day, she didn't think he'd ever realized she'd been awake during that visit.

He also hadn't let go of her from the time they'd left the hospital wing, through the visit to the kitchens, and up to the tower. Even once they were up there, he'd sat next to her all night, or within reach. Even Ron didn't dance attendance on Mione, and they were dating. In fact, the only time he'd left her side all night was to visit the loo.

When he'd gotten up, Hermione had come straight over. The bushy-haired girl had 'that look' in her eyes again. Ginny tried to head off what she knew was coming. She didn't even look up from the magazine she was looking through.

"Don't start, Hermione."

"Start what?"

"You know you don't do innocent at all well, so don't even try it. You know very well what I mean. Harry doesn't like me that way. Never has, never will."

"Alright Ginny, I'll leave it alone for now, as he'll be back down in a minute or two. Just do one thing for me. Pay attention to the way he looks at you, how he reacts to you, compared to how he reacts to anyone else. Maybe without me pestering you about it, you'll see for yourself."

Seeing Harry coming back downstairs, Hermione went back to sit with her boyfriend. Harry saw the slightly aggravated look on Ginny's face, and asked, "Mione going on about OWLs again?" He shook his head. She can be a right nutter when it comes to some things, yeah?"

Rolling her eyes, the redhead replied, "You don't know the half of it."

As the afternoon eased into evening, and people started to drift off to their homes, dorms, or convenient snogging hide-outs, it ended up with just the four of them again. Molly and Arthur had gone back to the Burrow, with a promise that as many of the family as possible would return for Christmas Day. Fred and George had headed back to the flat above their shop in Diagon Alley. After all, their reasoning went, there were still four valuable and potentially profitable shopping days until Christmas, and they weren't going to let them slip by.

After finishing the excellent dinner Dobby had brought up, Harry and Ron had settled down for one of their infamous Wizard's Chess marathons. The two had set up the board on the hearth rug, with Hermione sitting in an armchair behind Ron, Ginny in the one behind Harry. At one point, Harry had leaned back against her chair, to ask her opinion on his next move. She'd sat forward, leaning on his shoulders, as she peered at the board.

He'd turned his head to face her once she'd had a chance to look the situation over. "Well? Am I doomed?"

She'd turned to face him, fully intending to take the mickey out of him, when she saw the look on his face. It was a look of longing, that stopped whatever cheeky comment she'd been about to make in it's tracks. This time, the look was there long enough that she was sure that it wasn't just her mind, playing some dodgy little trick on her. By the time the look was gone, she had no doubt of what she was seeing, unlike that morning in the hospital wing. After a moment, though, the look did go away, and Harry was back to his usual composed self. She shook herself out of her daze and finally replied.

"Doomed. Utterly doomed, Mr Potter. You may as well concede the game now." She gave him a little wink as she said this.

Harry seemed taken aback by this. "Erm...yes...well...right then..." he stammered. A tinge of pink appeared in his cheeks. After a moment, he turned back to Ron, who was unsuccessfully trying to hide a smirk. "That's it then. Game over."

Ron just grinned and nodded in response. He looked at Harry with a look that said the game was up in more ways than one.

For the rest of the night, Ron and Hermione made a very obvious point of leaving Harry and Ginny to their own devices. In the next few hours, she flirted more with Harry than she had in the entire time she'd known him. She also got more response from him than she ever had, as well. That night, she'd seen him drop things, stutter, stammer, and blush.

By the end of the night, she was finally convinced that he may very well have feelings for her, though she still wasn't quite sure what they were. She'd wanted badly to just come right out and ask him. Gryffindor or not though, she still couldn't bring herself to do it. She'd been in love with him for as long as she could remember, and didn't know if she could take having her hopes and dreams built back up, only to have them crushed once again.

All of this combined to leave the petite young witch as frustrated as Ron would be, were he at a buffet with his jaw wired shut. After a while, she finally drifted off, her dreams filled with a certain dark-haired, emerald-eyed young wizard.

_**A/N:**_ While I'd love to respond to individual reviews, I really don't want to risk having this story yanked, before I even finish posting it. Sometime in the next few days, I plan on creating a file at my Yahoo group, just for that purpose. I'll let you know when I start doing that, for any who are interested. By the number of hits this story has gotten, I guess a few people like it. LOL I'm gratified at the response this fic has gotten, and would like to encourage you to continue letting me know what you think of it. Thanks!


	5. Chapter 5: Demonstrations

**Disclaimer:** Even with the aid of FireWhiskey, I highly doubt that anyone would be gullible enough to believe that I own any part of the Potterverse. In the event that I'm mistaken, would anyone like a drink? Don't mind that...a little smoke on a drink never hurt anyone...

**A Small Demonstration**

The DA meeting that night had gone well. Harry had taught the now much larger group a new, highly advanced, shield charm. The only drawback to it was the fact that it took more energy to cast than _protego_. What made up for that was that, unlike the more common defensive charm, once it was active, it stayed that way until the caster canceled it out. Also, unlike any other shield, it didn't draw any energy once it was in place. Another advantage was that it allowed hexes, jinxes, and even a few curses to pass through from behind, while still maintaining it's integrity.

Hermione had warned about the consequences of teaching such a powerful shield to so many people.

"After all," she'd reasoned, "what if we have a spy in our midst, and they tell the wrong person? Wouldn't that negate it's usefulness?"

Harry shook his head, amused that his research skills had outstripped hers, this time.

"Actually, no. The reason it works so well for us here is that it can only be used by someone who is firmly on the side of the Light."

"What? How?"

"Because of the way it works. Most shield spells, like _reflectum, _work by reflecting the spell back at the caster, or like _protego, _by allowing you to choose to reflect it back or absorb the energy back into yourself, effectively stealing it. _Diffusium,_on the other hand, absorbs the energy and diffuses it back into the environment, minus the little bit it keeps to power itself. Once you release the shield, the remaining energy goes back into the earth around you."

Hermione still looked unconvinced, she he tried another tack.

"Alright. Try this for size. D'you remember what Flitwick told us at the beginning of the year, about the difference between light and dark magics?"

"Of course. Dark magics are those used by someone to achieve their goal at the expense of others. The _cruciatus _benefits the caster by draining the magic from one person and funneling it straight into another. The reason it's so painful is that it rips the magic loose forcefully, while shutting down the endorphins producing parts of your body, not allowing any pain relief. Light magics can only be used to protect, heal, or help in some way. Basic stuff, really. Why?"

Something over her shoulder caught his eye for a moment, then he was looking at her, the amused glint still in his eyes. "Tell you what, Mione. I'm going to go give Luna a hand with the wand motion, and I'll be back. Think about it, and if you haven't figured it out by the end of the night, I'll tell you then. Alright?"

She nodded as he walked towards the sometimes dotty blond witch. As Hermione thought about what he'd said, she practiced the new shield charm. While she was practicing, she noticed, almost without realizing it, that few of the students around her were doing the exact wand movements, or pronouncing it exactly right. That wasn't unusual, especially as this was the first time any, save Harry, were trying it. For most students, a new spell always took a while to work. Almost all of what they'd learned during their time at school required three things to work. Practice, practice, and more practice. Even Hermione, with her natural talent and tendency to study things until there was nothing left to learn about them, still had to practice most things.

What was highly unusual was the fact that, no matter how mangled the pronunciations she was hearing from around the room, or how random the wand movements of some might seem, not one student was failing to conjure this shield. She put this seeming anomaly together with what Harry had said, and decided to try an experiment.

Releasing the shield she'd already successfully cast, she concentrated on wanting to protect herself and Ron, and deliberately mispronounced the incantation. "_Defusie."_ Instantly, a light blue shield shimmered around her. Releasing it, she tried again, concentrating on the same thing again, but this time she barely flicked her wand. Once again, the shield sprang to life around her, just as if it had been text-book perfect. In a bit of a daze, she decided to try one more thing.

This time, she concentrated all her thought on trying to harm Draco Malfoy, maybe in revenge for all of the slights she and her friends had endured from him over the past few years. She used the exact wand movement, as well as perfect pronunciation this time, just as she'd been shown.

Nothing. No shield. She tried it once more, with the same result.

On her final attempt, she concentrated on keeping Ron safe, and did the spell just like she'd seen Harry do it. This time, the shield that came up seemed almost solid, a deep blue for the first second or so. Then it settled down to near invisibility, just as it should. Her theory, as far as she could tell, had been borne out. She turned to find Harry and ask him about this, but she didn't have to go far. As she turned, she found that he'd been standing right behind her. Though startled, she nevertheless went to ask him a question, only to be brought short, as she received the next shock, in a night that seemed full of them already.

Those green eyes she'd watched since that day six years ago on the Hogwarts Express, held something new. Since that first train ride, she'd learned that the most reliable gauge to Harry Potter's mood, good or ill, lay in his eyes. The darker, more clouded, they appeared, the darker his mood. She remembered all too clearly how his eyes had gone to a dull, almost flat, dark jade color, almost closer to a granite grey, during the terrible time after the loss of his godfather. The week following the balls-up at the Ministry had scared her, almost more than hearing of the return of Voldemort.

At the other end of the spectrum, when he was happy, those orbs were the clearest, most vibrant and lively emerald color. There had been precious few times when she'd been able to see them like that. That was one of the reasons she enjoyed going to his and Ron's Quidditch games. When he was looking forward to flying off into the air, anticipating the freedom it brought, _that_ was how his eyes looked. She loved him like the brother she'd always wanted to have, and anything that made him that happy was a good thing, to her.

What she saw now was something so different though, that she didn't initially know what to make of it.

His eyes were twinkling, but even more brightly than Dumbledore's ever had. She saw every shade of green in there. He was happy, satisfied, anticipating,...was that..._teasing?_ One thing she knew for sure was that he wanted to hear what she had to say. She didn't let him down.

"The wand movements and the words don't mean much. It's the _intent_ behind it, right?"

He nodded and replied, "Got it in one. Always knew there was a reason we call you the brightest ever." He grinned at the slight blush that washed over her cheeks at this.

"Harry, where did you find this spell? It's not in any spell in the library, not even the grimmoires in the Restricted section."

"No, it's not. I have a confession to make. Remember all those paperbacks in my trunk at the Burrow this summer?"

"Wait. Hold on a minute. You mean to tell me that you found the most powerful shield spell I've ever seen in some golden-age, pulp-fiction, penny-dreadful, science-fiction story?" Her jaw hung open so far, it looked like it had become unhinged, somewhat akin to her mental state at this prospect.

Harry chuckled and said, "Hermione, if you don't watch out, birds are gonna nest in there." Waiting for him to continue, she closed her mouth with an audible snap.

"No, I didn't find the spell in there. What I found was the inspiration for the idea that led to it. In one of those books, one of the better ones by the way, by Anne McCaffrey, there was something about how the shields on a starship would work. In her book, the shields seem to work by breaking down anything that hits the shield into it's component parts, down past a molecular level, and scattering those components. That got me to thinking about the shields we use. Why wasn't there something like that for our use?

"So, I asked Moony to tutor me a bit on Arithmancy over the summer, sort of an 'Arithmancy For Dummies' if you will. When we got back to school, I started taking a good close look at _reflectum,_ a couple of severing charms, an obscure banishing hex, took parts from each, and combined them with a protective geis. That's why it works as well as it does. No matter the power level of the caster or how badly they do it. All that matters is the intent of the person using it."

Hermione was flabbergasted. "Y-y-you created the spell? How? When?" In her amazement, she seemed to forget that he'd already told her most of what she'd just asked for.

Harry's eyes twinkled again, as he replied. "We'll talk more tomorrow. Right now, I have a demonstration to perform."

With that, he walked away, leaving a thunderstruck witch behind him. The last thing Hermione noticed in his eyes as he turned away seemed to be dread. On his way to the platform at the front of the room, he stopped to talk to Dennis Creevey.

"Dennis, could you give me a hand with something?"

Hermione was thoroughly confused now. What would Harry have to dread, that had to do with Dennis?

At the younger boy's nod, he led the way to the dais. Once he was there, everyone's attention focused on him. The room quieted so quickly and thoroughly that he didn't need to use a _sonorus_ to address the group.

"I'd like to show you a quick demonstration of the effectiveness of this shield. I'd imagine that most of you are curious as to why I'd choose Dennis as an assistant on this. By his own admission, he's not exactly the strongest wizard of his year. In fact, to hear him tell it, there's second years that could take him in a duel. Personally, I think he's exaggerating just a bit.

"In actual fact, the reason I chose Dennis is that he is the closest to the average, in regards to his power and his control over his power, his abilities as a wizard. Dennis may have started a bit behind some of his classmates, but he's done a good job of catching up, since we started this group.

"What I would like to show you tonight is that, no matter the power level of the one casting the spell or the one trying to break through, all that matters is the intent of the person using the spell."

He turned to face the younger student, gave him an encouraging smile, and said, "Dennis, concentrate on protecting yourself and your family while casting the shield spell."

Watching the shield flare into life around Dennis, Harry took ten paces away, then drew his wand, mentally preparing himself for what was to come. He wasn't looking forward to the finale of this particular act, but it would be the only way to prove his point.

Harry started out slowly, with small jinxes and hexes.

"_Tarantallegra."_

Blocked

"_Diffindo."_

Blocked

"_Petrificus Totallus."_

And so it went, for the next ten minutes. Slowly but surely, he worked his way up the scale, each spell stronger than the one before. At one point, Harry was even using hexes that rarely saw use in battle, construction hexes, used to bore holes in stone, to blast stone in a mine. By the end, he was throwing one spell after another, barely waiting for the previous one to clear his wand before starting the next one.

The shield took it all. Nary a flicker appeared in the shield, no matter what Harry sent at it. The only real effect all the spells had was that the very air around the dais seemed to be charged with magic, so much so that you could almost see it.

Finally, he paused. He saw Dennis send him a questioning glance, asking if the demonstration was over. Grimly, Harry shook his head. He had one final point to make.

He summoned up all the fear, all the hate, he felt for Tom Marvolo Riddle, letter it build along with the magic he was summoning at the same time. It built to the breaking point before he finally released it, pointing his wand at Dennis, uttering one of the most feared, most loathed words in the wizarding world.

"_Crucio!"_

Gasps were heard through the hall, as well as a few screams. The sickly green light flew from the end of his wand, only to be stopped, not a foot from the younger student. The force of the spell dissipated, just like every spell before it.

Harry lowered his wand, carefully re holstering it. He nodded his thanks to Dennis and asked, "Alright, mate?"

The younger boy nodded back, smiling back a bit weakly. "No worries."

Harry grinned at this and motioned for Dennis to rejoin the rest of the group. He then to face everybody.

"What you have just seen will, I hope, prove once and for all that, no matter how powerful either opponent is in a duel, we now have a tool that will protect even a poor-to-average wizard or witch from the darkest of wizards. No Death Eater will hesitate to use that last spell I cast on anyone, whether student, auror, teacher, muggle, oldster, or baby. With this shield, we have a way to defend against anything they may bring to bear. Until now, there was no way to block or protect against the Unforgivables. The only shield that worked until now was rock or metal, and those could be shattered. With _Diffusio_, the dark will stand no chance against the Light. We will win!"

The cheer that greeted this pronouncement was enough to to shake the very walls in this room. They were nearly deafening in their intensity. Harry let the jubilant students continue for a few minutes, before dismissing them to their dorms.

By the time all but Harry and his closest friends had left, he felt the last of the iron control he'd exerted over himself crumble away. He fell to his knees, trembling, and felt what seemed like everything he'd eaten in recent memory rushing to get out. Luckily, the room provided a bucket just as the escape was made good. The other five remaining students came to offer support, standing close, just letting him know they were there for him. Somehow, their show of support helped, and he'd started to make a recovery by the time they heard a commotion by the door.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall was seated in front of the huge oak desk in the Headmaster's office. She and Albus Dumbledore were going over school business. They'd just finished the last of the arrangements for the upcoming ball, when a deep gonging sound rang through the office. They both knew what that sound was, and that it heralded nothing good. It was the alarm the wards on the castle gave when one of the Unforgivables was used within these walls.

The headmaster closed his eyes and expanded his awareness to his link with the wards, needing to discern where the disturbance was. With a start, he realized that the alarm was centered around the seventh floor corridor. Who had used the _Cruciatus_ in the Room of Requirement? He informed McGonagall, and the two of them took off at a run.

When they reached the Room of Requirement, Dumbledore was first in the room. He saw the teens gathered around Harry at the end of the room. McGonagall was the first to speak, as the headmaster was still a bit winded from the run.

"What in Merlin's name is going on in here? Why are the wards telling us that an Unforgivable used in here? Who was it?"

Where the other five students had been facing in towards Harry a moment ago, they were now facing outwards, looking at the two professors. They all wore identical expressions, ones of grim determination. Ginny Weasley was the first to speak.

"That's because that's just what happened. Harry had to demonstrate that, with the new shield he taught us, even the weakest among us couldn't be taken out by the strongest. He was the only one who could do it."

She explained the demonstration that had taken place, as well as the aftereffects. Once she was finished, she moved to one side, allowing them to see an obviously drained Harry Potter slowly straightening, a haunted expression on his face.

"What you see before you is the effect that casting a dark spell has on him, and he didn't sustain it for any length of time. It's all the proof that any of us will ever need, as to how good he is." She shrugged. "Just one of the reasons we believe in him as we do."

It was plain to see that Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore were deeply shaken by all of this. Strangely enough, at seeing the look on Harry's face, they were reassured as well, though neither was quite sure why. It was a few minutes before either could formulate a response. Finally, looking over the top of his half-moon spectacles, Dumbledore asked.

"I would assume from the united front we see in front of us, as well as the jubilant students we encountered on our way here, that the shield worked as hoped?

Harry fielded this one, looking exhausted, yet in a strong voice. "Yes sir. It worked beyond all expectations."

Ron was next. "Stopped the curse right in mid-air, it did."

"If my parents had had this available to them..." Neville mused sadly.

"Or Harry's, for that matter." Hermione's eyes gleamed with unshed tears for both of her friends.

"Actually, that was a huge part of why I invented it. So that nobody else would have to end up like the Longbottoms. I know what it's like to grow up without parents." He looked to Hermione. "As to the killing curse, only time will tell. There's only one way to test that, and I don't know about you lot, but I really don't fancy bringing a Death Eater here to try it out."

Murmurs of agreement went through the little group gathered here. Harry gave a bit of a cynical smile before continuing. "Of course, with the way things usually go for me, I'll probably be the one to test it, the next time I face the snake-faced idiot."

Everybody shuddered as they realized the truth in that statement.

The headmaster responded to this speculation with, "Hopefully, dear boy, we will be able to delay your next confrontation with Tom for a while yet."

Harry shrugged. "We can hope."

Dumbledore stood up and looked around at the remaining students. "Unless I'm greatly mistaken, I believe that curfew is quickly approaching. I bid you all a good night."

McGonagall stood with him. When the reached the door, she turned back to face the group, her gaze not giving anything away as her eyes settled on Harry. "Mr Potter, it sounds as if you gave an impressive demonstration tonight. In future though, please try to refrain from activities that have such a high potential for causing heart failure. Namely, mine." With that, she turned and swept out the door.

Neville and Luna stood to go next. The four that were left spent a few minutes more discussing how the meeting had gone, before Ron and Hermione left for their nightly patrol. Harry was unsure of how much 'patrolling' would get done, and mentioned it to Ginny. They shared a grin over that as she gathered her things to go.

Harry asked, "Where are you going? We have time yet."

"Back to the tower, Harry. That _is_ where I keep my bed, you know."

"I thought you wanted help on your _patronus_. Weren't we going to do that after the meeting?"

She looked back with a doubtful expression. "I know that took a lot out of you tonight. Are you sure you're up to it?"

"I'm feeling better now. Listen, if nothing else, at least you'll get a chance to practice a few times, even if you don't get it to work all the way. Besides, I have a way for you to try it with a dementor. I got a boggart out of Professor Vector's classroom earlier."

"Alright then." She set her bookbag back down and withdrew her wand.

"Okay, Gin. Before we start, I want to see how you do under optimal conditions. There's no dementor at the moment, you're safe in the castle, and with a friend. You know how this works. Just picture your happiest memory firmly in your mind, and cast the charm."

Ginny took a moment to summon her happiest memory, that of waking up to seeing him at her bedside the previous morning. Giving all of her concentration to it, picturing the look of love she was sure she'd seen in her eyes at least twice so far, she opened her eyes and drew her wand, casting the spell.

"_Expectro Patronum!"_

A large silver form burst from her wand. The shape was indistinct, though there seemed to be a shape that wanted to form from the mist. There almost seemed to be a suggestion of wings, as well as bulk. The silvery shape faded out of sight after a moment, not giving her a chance to make out any more than that. There seemed to be something familiar about it, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

Harry stepped forward now. "That wasn't bad, Gin. It was almost corporeal. With a bit of practice, you should be able to get it. The power's there, but it needs just a little push. Let me show you something."

"I ran across something a couple months ago, that I think will help. I was paging through an Experimental Charms Journal Professor Flitwick had left on the headmaster's desk one day, and they had an article discussing using hopes and dreams, rather than just memories, when conjuring a _patronus._ Because of the fact that real memories fade over time, it can be necessary to find a new memory to fuel it from time to time. However, if there's a particular hope or dream that you've been nurturing for a long time, it only gets more intense, more vivid, as you add detail to it over the years. An additional benefit of doing it this way is that your _patronus_, well, packs more of a punch for want of a better way to put it. Let me show you what I mean."

He dragged a small trunk over from next to one of the bookcases. The trunk rattled, shook, and moaned, as he brought it over. He stepped back to where she still stood, drew his wand, and bowed his head for a moment, concentrating.

He pictured what he'd seen in the Mirror of Erised, just a couple of weeks prior.

_A small home in the country, surrounded by open space, with room in the back for flying; himself, standing with his arm around the waist of a very pregnant Ginny, wedding bands on the ring finger of each of their left hands; a yard full of children, theirs, Ron and Hermione's, Bill and Fleur's, running, playing, all knowing they're loved, all with the childhood he'd never had himself; a much older Harry and Ginny, grey streaking their hair yet still very much in love, still devoted to each other and their family; a real, true, family_

Harry's head snapped up, emerald eyes almost blazing with an inner lightHe muttered a quick _alohamora_, and the trunk sprang open. The shape within quickly assumed the form of a dementor, looming over Harry.

"_Expectro Patronum!"_

Prongs burst forth in all his glory, heading straight for the dementor. As with the last time Harry had cast this charm, the corporeal form was almost golden, rather than the usual silver-grey. He ran a few laps around the apparent dementor, before herding it back to the trunk. Once it was back in, he cantered over to Harry, dropping his head in salute. Harry reached out a hand to touch the muzzle, and Prongs dissipated.

"Whenever you're ready, Gin, go ahead and try it. If you need to take a few minutes to get ready, that's fine." He moved off to the side and started leafing through one of the books the room provided, seeing if there was anything he hadn't run across yet.

Ginny closed her eyes, thinking for a moment how ironic it was that Harry, the object of so many of her dreams, hopes, and fantasies, was telling her to use those thoughts for her _patronus._ She put that aside and called up those dreams, not really wondering at all which one she considered her greatest desire.

_The war over, the wizarding and muggle worlds at peace; all of her family having survived the war; her, married to Harry; red-headed, green-eyed, children running around a small home in the country, not a shack, but not a manor, just comfortable; growing old with Harry_

Bright brown eyes snapped open, her head jerked up, and she cast the charm once more. As the words left her lips, a huge silvery-gold form burst from her wand, taking flight and soaring around the room before coming to a landing before her. A magnificent hyppogriff, easily the same size as Buckbeak, stood there before the stunned redhead. She just had time to register the presence of a strange looking blaze on his chest before he went into a deep bow. She reached out a hand to caress his beak, but he vanished before she could touch it.

A bit in shock at her success, she looked over to Harry. If she was surprised, she had no earthly idea how to describe his reaction. He stood there, mouth agape, eyes wide. He was paler than she'd ever seen him. After a moment, he collected himself and seemed to look at her much closer than he ever had.

That was...erm...certainly...impressive, Gin. I think...that's...all the practice we have time for tonight. Yes, it's quite late. We'd best head for the tower, yeah?"

With a glazed expression on his face, he turned and walked out of the Room of Requirement, leaving a very confused witch in his wake.

**_A/N:_** I have to say that I am extremely gratified to see the response this story has gotten so far. It's been a lot of fun to write, though the whole editing process kinda sucks. LOL I hope you all still enjoy my small efforts here. The reviews have been very encouraging and constructive. As I don't want to get in trouble with the management around here, I'll confine my replies to reviews (for now) to simply thanking all of those who've reviewed for their kind comments.


	6. Confrontations

**Disclosure:** No house-elves were harmed in the writing of this chapter. Garden Gnomes? Oh, yes. But no house-elves. Many Garden Gnomes were sacrificed in propitiation of the holders to all the rights to the Potterverse. Sadly, that's not me. That's alright though. I don't much fancy roasted garden gnome. Kinda gamy for my tastes.

**A/N:** Just a quick note of thanks, to all who've reviewed, and a huge thank you and a glomp for Rachael, for the help with this chapter. I'd give you a great big kiss too, but Lori might get a bit jealous. Possessive, that one is.

**Confrontations**

A very shaken sixteen year old wizard made his way through the portrait hole leading to Gryffindor tower. His emerald eyes quickly scanned the common room until he caught sight of who he was looking for. In the corner of the room, sharing a single chair, were Ron and Hermione. They appeared to be hermetically sealed together at the lips. Harry was glad they'd gotten together. Really, he was. He just wished they could find slightly less public ways to show their affection for each other, as it had a slight tendency to put him off his dinner. Still, it was better than the nearly constant bickering he'd listened to from the two of them for the first five years of their friendship.

He went quickly to them, putting up silencing and notice-me-not charms along the way. When they still hadn't noticed him standing there a few minutes later, he drew his wand and shot a jet of cold water at the two of them. They separated instantly, sputtering as they jumped from the chair. By the time they were on their feet, Harry had finished casting a quick _aridus,_ drying them thoroughly. Under normal circumstances, this would be an extremely amusing experience. However, with as unsettled as he was by what he'd just seen in the Room of Requirement, Harry wasn't in the mood for a laugh just now. He had a strange look in his eyes that stopped whatever protests the couple might have made in their tracks.

Hermione was the first to speak. "Harry, what's wrong? You look as if you've seen a ghost."

"Actually, I saw three. Rather, two and a poltergeist, on the way here." he answered distractedly.

Rolling her eyes, she said, "Harry, you're babbling. What's got you so worked up?"

"Did either of you tell Ginny about my animagus form?"

Both shook their heads as Ron spoke up. "Of course not, mate. You and McGonagall swore us to secrecy. Why d'you think that?"

Harry looked around to make sure Ginny wasn't there. A sign of how distracted the young wizard was could be seen in the fact that he forgot for a moment about the charms he'd cast earlier.

"I was coaching her on her _patronus, _just now. After what happened in Hogsmeade..." He trailed off. The other two remembered all too well how she'd been affected by the dementors, and Harry's vow to ensure that she wouldn't have to worry about that again.

He explained about the new technique he'd had her try, using her heart's true desire, her dreams.

"The next time she tried it, she got an honest to Merlin, full-blown, corporeal _patronus._ A bloody royal hippogriff, with a chest blaze identical to _this_ buggering thing!" He pointed at the scar on his forehead. "I'll ask again. Are you absolutely certain that nothing slipped out to her about it? Even by accident?"

Hermione answered this time. "Absolutely, Harry. Neither of us would be that careless about security. We know what's at stake."

He sank down into the chair they'd vacated, head in his hands. "I know you wouldn't. I'm sorry. I just...How do you explain it, then?"

Hermione had a strange look on her face. It was a mix of the one she had when she'd figured out a particularly difficult puzzle, a bit of trepidation over what his response might be to her conclusion, and just a bit of smugness, as if she were about to prove something she'd said all along.

Harry was familiar with this particular expression, as she'd had it a few times before, and knew that he'd have to reassure her that it was safe to say what she wanted to. He felt a twinge of guilt at this thought. He knew he hadn't always treated her the way he should, and wanted to make sure he didn't take her or her brilliance for granted. Not anymore.

"Mione, I promise I won't explode on you. Just tell me, okay?"

She nodded, saying, "Alright, Harry. Just remember two things. First, you asked for my opinion. Second, this really is not an attempt to say 'I told you so', alright?" At his nod, she continued. "Over the past couple of years, I've done some research into the _patronus_ charm, among other things. Don't say a word, Ron. Anyway, one of the things I've tried to find out about is what determines the shape the manifestation takes on. Some people have great fierce things, like Ron's bear, your stag, and Remus' lion. Others have forms that are usually more passive in nature, like my otter, or Cho's swan. Oh, don't cringe like that, Harry. I'm just using it as an example. The thing is, no matter what the form is, all of them are fiercely protective when facing dementors.

"One other thing I've noticed that relates to you and Ginny is that a _patronus_ form can represent somebody you have very deep positive feelings about, even if you don't realize that's where it comes from. Your magic knows, whether you do or not." She saw Harry starting to protest, and held a hand up to stop him. "Before that night in the Shrieking Shack, did you know anything about your dad's animagus form, or his nickname at school?" Seeing him shake his head no, she continued. "I didn't think so. How long before that night were you able to produce a fully corporeal _patronus_?"

"About two months or so."

"You told me that, until you received your Hogwarts letter, your 'bedroom' for want of a better word, was a small cupboard under the stairway in your aunt and uncle's home. I know from what Ron and the Twins said after coming to get you before second year, you were little more than a prisoner there, with bars on the window of the bedroom they'd moved you into. From the little you've told us about that, it was due to something that Dobby had done with a pudding, using magic in your home and getting you in trouble with the Ministry. Right so far?"

He nodded. "Pretty much."

"Harry, on the one hand, I'm sorry I have to ask you this, and on the other, I'm ashamed that I never have before."

From the look on Hermione's face, he had a pretty good idea what she was going to ask. Truthfully, he wondered how he'd gotten this far without answering the question he reckoned was coming, and braced himself for it.

She sank to her knees in front of him, taking his hand into both of hers. She really hoped she wasn't about to get the answer she thought she would, but needed to know. She steeled herself and said, "There's really no good way to ask this, so I'll just ask it straight out. Growing up, did you get hit a lot by them? More than just spankings and the like? I know your cousin was, and is, horrible to you, but your aunt and uncle?"

Harry's eyes went dark, as clouded as Hermione or Ron had ever seen them. Aside from that, there was no expression at all on his normally mobile face, sending a chill down both of his best friends' backs. Normally, the only time he looked like this was when somebody mentioned Sirius at an inopportune moment, or when he encountered Snape in the corridors.

The potions professor had lately taken to belittling James and Lily Potter every chance he got, using every put down he could possibly think of. Apparently, he was extremely rankled by the fact that Harry had gotten into NEWT level Potions, and was doing very well at it on top of that. These encounters were actually one of the things that had taught Harry the control he now exhibited most of the time. It had, in Snape's view, taken away his best chance for deducting points from Gryffindor over the past few months, frustrating the man greatly. That in itself was reason enough for Harry to work on his control.

When he spoke next, his eyes had cleared, almost a little too much. Any expression was almost completely gone from them. What followed was very dispassionate, almost sounding in tone like a documentary Hermione remembered watching in primary school, before Hogwarts. He told his best friends what it had really been like, growing up under the 'care' of the Dursleys. How any time he'd 'dared' to outperform their precious Diddydums, academically, athletically or otherwise, he was punished. First, through meals withheld or extra chores, sometimes both. Then, when the first incidences of accidental magic had occurred, they'd hit him.

At first, it had been nothing more than slaps. Then, fists. Later, when they'd realized that the injuries these hits had inflicted seemed to heal much too quickly for their tastes, Vernon had changed to using a belt, to try to 'beat the abnormality out of him'. When these marks had faded too quickly for his uncle's liking, he'd switched to using other things, a broom handle, a cord from a lamp, other objects Harry refused to remember, not caring what damage he might do to the young boy consigned to his care. Harry quite literally had no idea how many times bones in his arms, legs, his ribs, even his skull, had been broken over the years, or how many times his body had magically mended itself more quickly and effectively than could be accounted for. Vernon had told him time and time again that it was for his own good, seeming to believe that magic could be beaten out of him, turning him normal.

Whatever that was.

By the time he'd finished, Hermione and Ron were each crouched to one side of his chair. Ron was gripping his shoulder, darkly muttering about teaching those muggles a thing or two. Hermione had her arms wrapped around his neck, sobbing. She couldn't help but think back to the quietly polite boy with the broken glasses and messy black hair she'd met her first time on the Hogwarts Express. Just the thought of those monsters doing what had been described, to that sweet young boy, was enough to rip the heart from her chest. It was hard to reconcile that kind of treatment with the way Harry had turned out. As she cried herself out, Harry ran his hand up and down her back, telling her that it was alright, that they knew better than to try that anymore. After a few minutes, she stopped crying, and sat down on the floor in front of his chair. She looked up into his eyes and saw that they were back to their usual vibrant green.

She took a handkerchief out of her pocket and dried her face, giving her nose a good blow while she was at it. When she was done, she looked up at him with an incredulous half-smile on her face. "Harry, how is it that you can tell me things like that about your own childhood, and I end up being the one comforted, by _you_ no less?"

A ghost of his usual smile touched his eyes as he shrugged. "I've lived with it for a long time, Mione. I guess I'm just used to it. It's just the way my life was, for a long time. They won't try it anymore, only because I frighten them now." He chuckled a bit. "Guess it's kind of a good thing, yeah?"

Hermione and Ron traded a look that said they would discuss this in more detail later. Their best friend had endured far too much, for far too long, for retribution not to be in the offing. By the time the summer hols came around again, both would be of age, and a reckoning would be due. There was no way those idiots were going to get away with what they'd done to him.

(In fact, during the summer between their sixth and seventh years, there was a meeting between these two, Ginny, and Fred and George. Halfway through the planning session, they'd been interrupted by Molly. Once she was informed of the reasons behind this particular summit meeting, an enraged Molly, bearing an uncanny resemblance to a lioness defending her cubs in full roar, had helped the group with some particularly painful, devious, as well as extremely effective, suggestions. She also volunteered to send the Dursleys an extraordinarily loud howler, letting them know that everything that would befall them was deliberate, rather than a series of rather unfortunate events. That, alas, is a story for another time.)

Once the three of them had a few minutes to collect themselves, Hermione asked, "During all the time you were growing up with those people, did you ever wish that somebody would rescue you, take you away from the Dursleys?"

Harry nodded slowly. "Yeah, actually. I don't think I ever really believed that my parents died in a car crash, like Petunia said. Every night, trying to get to sleep in that cupboard, I'd fantasize about my dad coming to Privet Drive, telling them off for how they'd treated me, and beating the snot out of Vernon. Then, he'd take me away from them forever. The two of us would join my mum, and we'd all live happily ever after somewhere.

"Mione, what does any of this have to do with my _patronus_, or Ginny's for that matter?"

"I'll tell you in a moment. First, tell me something. Putting aside anything you saw about him in that memory from Snape, what do you feel about your dad?"

"I love him, of course. He was my dad. How else would I feel?" He was starting to get a bit irritated by this line of questioning, and it showed. "Again, what does any of this have to do with _patroni_, mine or Gin's?"

"The most recent theory anyone's come up with regarding the _patronus_ is that, for some people, both the form and the power is linked to the caster's feelings for a particular person. From what I've been able to determine, two feelings are involved, safety and love. You have to feel absolutely, completely, totally safe when you're with them, or when you think of them. You also have to love that person, unconditionally. Not 'for as long as they're there for me', 'as long as he doesn't do something that embarrasses me', or 'once he notices me, and stops being a blind berk'. Unconditionally. Without reservation, and with all of your heart, Harry."

At this, Ron couldn't keep quiet any longer. "The same way that you and Ginny love each other, mate. The same way I love Hermione. Completely." He pointed at his girlfriend. "_She_ might not say 'I told you so', but _I_ will." Poking Harry in the chest, he concluded, "So, are you going to finally ask her out, or not?"

Harry leaned his head on the back of the chair, exhausted in every sense of the word. He had no idea at the moment if this was even a good idea, no matter how his heart pulled at him, telling him how right it was. He looked around the room, trying to work it all out.

He saw that, at some point while he and his friends had talked, Ginny had come into the common room and settled onto the sofa in front of the fire. At first, he was afraid she'd overheard all or part of their conversation, then remembered the charms he'd erected earlier. Luckily, that meant that she was oblivious to anything the trio had said, indeed, even the fact that they were in the room with her. He sat there for a few minutes, watching the lights from the flames on the hearth playing over her hair. He remembered a moment like this, back in Grimmauld Place, just a year ago.

They'd all been sitting around the table in the kitchen, waiting for word on Arthur Weasley, when it happened. The first time he'd ever really seen her. Her head had been resting on one of her arms on the table, the firelight dancing over her auburn hair, bringing out new colors, every time it flickered and shifted. The same light played over her eyes, and he noticed for the first time that her eyes were the exact colors of melted chocolate, with flecks of gold in them.

It was also the first time he'd recalled what Hermione had said to him about Ginny, after that meeting at the HogsHead. Thinking of that now, he turned back to Hermione.

"I thought you told me that she used to fancy me, that she didn't like me that way anymore. She gave up on me ages ago, you said."

"She did. She gave up on you in the same way that I'd given up on Ron. At the time, neither of us thought we'd ever have the chance to get the boys we wanted. We gave up trying, and chasing, but we never gave up hope, never gave up our dreams." She looked over at her boyfriend now. "I just happened to get my dream first." She smiled at the blush that appeared on Ron's cheeks. "Now it's time for hers, and yours, to come true. Just ask her, Harry. You two really are meant for each other."

The two of them stood to go, and Ron looked at Harry once more. "I don't know of any couple that deserves happiness more than you two. You can find it, if nobody else. Ask her."

Ron and Hermione left hand in hand, very quietly, so as not to alert Ginny as to their presence. They slipped out through the portrait hole as quietly as they could, and Harry canceled the spells he'd had up.

Making up his mind, he got up slowly from his chair and walked toward her. Hesitantly, he spoke.

"Ginny."


	7. Chapter 7 Confirmation

**Disclosure:** Maybe someday I'll come up with something with a bit of commercial viability, but not today. For now, I'm just enjoying playing in the beautiful sandbox that the wonderful Ms Rowling's genius has provided.

_**Warning: Major, big-time fluff lies beyond this point. You have been warned.** hehehe_

**Confirmation:**

Ginny was possibly the most confused she'd been since the first time she'd seen Harry, on Platform 9 ¾. First of all, he'd been the one to suggest to her that she practice her _patronus_ charm. She'd only done it a couple of times, but she'd produced what seemed to be a perfect example, and on just the second try, using the technique he'd suggested.

She'd expected him to beam with pride at her accomplishment, as he'd done the first time Hermione's otter had appeared. What she hadn't expected was for him to look like he'd been punched in the gut, not to mention the way he'd just wandered off like that. She'd thought that, with all the time they'd spent together lately, and the looks he'd given her, that he might have feelings for her, that he'd finally started seeing her a something other than his best mate's little sister. Objectively, she knew that with as close as they'd become, she was no longer the 'kid sister'. Emotionally, it was another story entirely. It seemed lately as if, any time they started to get close to something more than friendship or he seemed to be on the verge of opening up, he'd withdraw, afraid to let anyone in. It was like shutters slamming shut. One moment, his eyes would reveal all, and she could see the affection she'd hoped for, for so long. The next, it seemed that he'd realized that she'd seen it, and closed it off, as effectively as a brick wall going up. All in all, he had to be the most frustrating prat she'd ever known.

The thing that gave her a bit of hope at the moment was something she thought she'd seen in his face as he'd left, underlying everything else. It seemed to be the look of somebody rethinking a long-held belief. The thing that confused her was that, after the DA meeting earlier, the only other thing that had happened was her casting her _patronus_. She was experienced enough in Harry-Watching that she was fairly sure that it shouldn't have caused that kind of a reaction.

After all, it wasn't like she'd taken advantage of the fact that they'd been the only ones in the Room of Requirement, no matter how much she'd wanted to...

_Bad Ginevra. Naughty, naughty thoughts. Stop that._

_Who, me?_

_Yes, you. You are not to think about doing...doing...ummm...ok...maybe you can _think _about it._

_Sooo...I've corrupted my conscience?_

_Thinking is okay...planning is not._

_Rats!_

Anyway, it wasn't like she'd taken advantage of the first opportunity to be alone with him in longer than she cared to remember, to tell him how she really felt about him, or to do other things to him, for that matter. That, she expected to have that sort of effect on him. In fact, she'd be highly disappointed if it didn't. The Hospital Wing didn't count, as one of them was more often than not unconscious, and Madame Pomfrey was always hovering somewhere nearby.

Firmly putting these thoughts aside, she gathered up her things, deciding it wasn't going to do a bit of good speculating on all of this. It was time to go find a certain raven-haired seeker, and get some answers. He'd skived long enough.

She set off down the seventh floor corridor, making her way to the tower. She was almost there when she heard a most unwelcome voice drawling behind her.

"Well, well. If it isn't the Weaselette. All by your lonesome, too. What's the matter, Potty too busy to play bodyguard today? Or can't your family afford his services anymore, cheap as they are?"

Before he could blink, Draco Malfoy was stuck to the wall, upside down, and with a silencing charm on him for good measure. By the time Ginny's wand was back in the holder at her wrist, she was sitting on the floor, so that she could address him at eye level.

"Listen here, you fatuous little ass," she said in a low voice. "I am really not in the mood for you today, as it's been a very long and frustrating day. So I'll make this short, and I'll even keep it to small words, so that I can be sure that even _you_ can't miss my meaning.

"In the past twenty years, only one person has gotten higher marks in DADA than I have, and that's Harry. You remember Harry, don't you? The same person even your idiotic dark lord is scared of. The one who, every time you've gone against him over the past six years, has beaten you. Soundly. Spanked you til you squealed." She broke off a moment, looking contemplative. "Maybe that's why you do it, then? You _like_ the spankings?" A look of total revulsion came over her face. "Urgh! Now _there's_ a mental image I didn't want or need. Now, my point is that I don't need a minder. I'm well able for taking care of myself, especially when it comes to a nasty little tosser like you.

"However, I'm not in the mood to deal with detention, as it happens to be the holidays. So, instead of doing things to you that would make even the dark lord you worship flinch, I'll just let you in on a little secret. I know you remember my bat-bogey hex, yeah? Just keep this in mind. The nostrils aren't the only opening on the body it can be used on. The smaller the opening it uses, the more explosive and painful it is."

She watched him work this out, and was amused to see that, even upside down, the color was still able to drain from his face. As he was nearly albinoid in appearance already, it was quite the interesting effect.

She smirked and said, "I see you get my meaning, Malfoy. You, you diseased little ferret, are the only person I could think of who could make me reverse my opinion on abortion, as long as it's retroactive."

She stood up now and rested her full book-bag on his inverted chin as she made a show of rooting through it, as though searching for something. Finally, she shouldered her bag and started down the corridor. Before she turned the corner, she turned back to look over her shoulder.

"By the way, Draco," she said sweetly, "I'm also top of my class in Charms. The sticking charm on you will end itself anywhere between thirty seconds and ten minutes from now, and drop you on your head. Hard. One last thing to consider. You remember Fred and George? My brothers? Even _they_ won't risk getting me angry. I'm only annoyed right now. You don't want to see me angry." With a whispered '_Exfolliato Rex' ,_ she was gone. He was sure to have something to remember her by, though. A recurring shaving hex over the entire body will do that.

After this confrontation, Ginny wasn't really in the mood to go to the common room. She knew she had to cool down a bit, so she detoured to the kitchens for some hot chocolate. As she stepped through the opening behind the painting of the fruit bowl, a small bundle of knitted caps and garish socks, topped off by a tea cozy, approached her.

"What would the pretty Wheezy like tonight?"

She chuckled. "The pretty Wheezy, eh? Wouldn't take much, would it now Dobby, as I'm the only girl out of the lot. Just some cocoa and a couple of those éclairs from dinner, please."

"Right away, miss!" He returned a moment later, setting a plate and a mug on the table in front of her. The little creature had a look in his eyes that Ginny knew. It told her that he had something he wanted to say, but wasn't sure of the reception he'd receive.

"What is it, Dobby?" she gently inquired.

He shyly responded, "It really isn't Dobby's place to say this, miss, but Dobby happens to agree with Harry Potter, when he says that miss Wheezy is the prettiest witch in all of Hogwarts. Not just because Harry Potter is a great wizard and a greater friend, but because Dobby believes it to be truth."

The young witch's eyebrows shot nearly to her hairline at the house-elf's statement. "Back up a moment. What do you mean, Harry said I'm pretty?"

"Prettiest witch in all of Hogwarts." He squinted a moment, trying to recall something, then his expression cleared. "He also said, 'The cutest bum in existence', and, "Legs so sexy they shouldn't be legal' Dobby has a very good memory, though Dobby isn't quite sure what those last two things mean." He tilted his head at her. "Will there be anything else, miss?"

In a daze, the furiously blushing Ginny mutely shook her head, and the exuberant little house-elf scurried off.

_Harry thinks I'm pretty!_

_According to the craziest house-elf in the castle._

_He's not crazy. He's enthusiastic._

_Not crazy? Have you seen what he's wearing?_

_So? It's winter, the castle is made of stone, and it's cold._

_Hello! Hermione made those hats. She can't knit._

_Good point. But Dobby wouldn't lie._

_Oh? Why not?_

_He can't. If he lies, he has to punish himself._

_Fine. Whatever. He's still a little nutter._

_Doesn't matter._

_Why not?_

_Harry likes my bum and my legs._

_ARGH!_

Having won this latest battle between herself and, well, herself, Ginny finished her hot chocolate and pastries and slipped out of the kitchens. As she wended her way through the corridors, making her way back to the tower, the red-headed girl thought about what she'd learned. She wasn't sure why Harry would say things like that in front of Dobby, and not tell her, but there had to be a perfectly logical explanation.

At least somewhat logical?

Alright, so it was probably completely mad.

Be that as it may, he's said it, and she wanted him to say it again. This time though, she wanted him to say it so that she could hear it. Now all she had to do was figure out how to make it happen.

Passing into the common room, she noticed that she couldn't seem to focus on the corner of the room where she knew that Harry, Ron, and Hermione always sat in. She'd joined them there enough times since the start of term that it was almost automatic to look over there when coming in. Growing up in the Burrow, as well as being at Grimmauld Place while Order meetings were going on, she knew how to spot the existence of heavy-duty shielding and privacy charms. As Harry and Hermione were the only students she knew of powerful enough to cast such spells, they must be over there. That, coupled with the fact that no Richter-force snoring was currently emanating from the staircase going to the boys dorms, meant that all three of them had to be there.

Eventually, she knew, Hermione and Ron would want some 'alone time', and a certain dishy emerald-eyed seeker would need to drop the charms. She made herself comfortable on the sofa, and decided to wait them out.

A while later, she felt a brief draft on the back of her neck, and saw the flames jump a bit, telling her the portrait hole had opened for a moment. A minute or two after that, she heard a voice behind her.

"Ginny. D'you mind if I sit down here?"

She was taken aback by this. Usually, he didn't ask, and would just plop down on the sofa next to her in greeting. In fact, when he was in one of his rare playful moods, he'd make a point of quietly sneaking up behind her, jumping over the back of the sofa, and landing as hard as he could right next to her, scaring the daylights out of her. With as much as she was usually buried in her texts and notes lately, she wasn't that hard to surprise. The hesitant way he'd approached had piqued her interest. Harry Potter could, and had been, described in many ways, but tentative was a word she never thought she'd ever use in relation to him.

"Sure, Harry." Patting the cushion next to her, she said, "I wanted to ask you about something, anyway."

"Yeah. About earlier. I'm sorry I ran off like that. You...erm...surprised me, to say the least. The form your _patronus_ took..." His voice failed him at this point. Actually, it wasn't so much his voice, as his brain. He'd turned to look at her, and saw her eyes. What was it about those rich, beautiful, bright brown orbs that caused all the connections inside his skull to fuse together? Whatever it was, he had to make a conscious effort to wrench his gaze from those molten pools of Honeyduke's Finest. Unfortunately, that was all the voice inside him needed.

_Molten pools? Sappy, much? Merlin!_

_Shut it!_

_Oooohh...Tetchy, aren't we?_

_Go away, and let me do this! Please._

Surprisingly, the voice listened and did as he asked. When he came back to himself, Ginny was looking at him with a strange expression on her face. It was a sort of a curious smirk.

He thought for a moment about the best way to tell her how he felt, along with the rest. Somehow, he knew that she wouldn't take a partial answer. She was a bit too much like him in that regard. The quickest way to do that would be to show her. There was really only one place where he could do that. He gave a firm nod and stood.

"I'll be right back. I just need to go up to my dorm for a minute, alright?"

At her bemused nod, he all but flew up the stairs, in the door, and out again. In one hand was the Marauders Map, already active, and the other held the silvery material of his invisibility cloak.

She stood, cocking an eyebrow as she rose. "Are we off to the kitchens, then?"

"No, actually. I have something I need to show you." He blushed, realizing how much this might sound like a cheesy line of some sort. Rather than trying to correct himself, digging himself further into a hole he couldn't climb out of, he simply draped the cloak over the two of them, leading the way out. "Come on." Watching the map, they were able to avoid Mrs Norris, Snape, and even Peeves on the way to the Room of Requirement.

The only thing that gave him pause the entire time was passing a small pile of white-blond hair, next to the wall, with a trail of progressively finer and curlier hairs, heading toward the dungeons. He heard Ginny snicker at this, and looked to her for an explanation. By the time they'd reached their destination, it was as well that nobody else showed nearby on the map. By the time they'd reached the painting across from the room, Harry was laughing fit to wake the dead. All he could manage to get out was, "All the hair on his body? Every six hours?" He was laughing too hard to say anything else. When he finally calmed himself enough to be coherent again, he said, "Remind me to never get on your bad side."

He paced in front of the wall three times, concentrating on how he wanted the room to look. Once they'd closed the door behind them, he pulled the cloak from them, and laid it across the back of the sofa that had appeared in the room. The room looked remarkably like the Gryffindor common room, though with just the one sofa in front of the fireplace. There was also a large open area off to one side, and of course the stairways to the dorms weren't there. Otherwise, it was almost the same. He led her over to the sofa, taking a seat beside her. The atmosphere in the room was just romantic enough that she had to ruthlessly push down the hope that had started to swell in her breast. This woke her cynical side once more.

_You don't honestly think he brought you here to snog you or something, do you?_

_Possibly. I quite like the idea of 'or something'._

_Oh, get a grip on yourself. He doesn't think of you that way._

_I remind you, he likes my bum and my legs._

_I give up!_

_Thank you._

Once Ginny was seated, he jumped back up and started pacing back and forth, building up his nerve. Finally, he stopped, looking into her eyes.

"First off, I want you to promise me that you won't mention what I'm about to show you to anybody, except Ron, Mione, and McGonagall. They already know about this. It's not that I don't trust you. I do. With my life. If I didn't trust you that far, we wouldn't be here right now. I just need to make sure you know how important this is, alright?"

Ginny nodded, knowing that, for Harry to make this big of a deal out of something, it had to be important. "Of course, Harry. I promise."

"Okay. I don't want you to be too shocked. It's going to be a bit of a surprise." He moved off toward the open area. She was looking into his eyes as he started to change.

His arms lengthened and thickened at the same time, as did his legs. Hands changed to talons, while his feet became hooves. His chest became deeper and wider, gaining much more muscle. His neck lengthened, leading up to the head of a hawk. Huge glorious wings sprouted from his back. The top part of his body came down to rest on the floor, so he was on all fours. On the front half of his body were feathers, almost pure white, shot through with grey. The rear half was more of a dusky grey. Interwoven through all of it, feathers and fur, was an iridescent gold. He turned to face her completely, and that's when she saw the blaze on his chest. It was a lightning bolt, in black.

Ginny was in shock, realizing how much the Golden Hippogriff in front of her resembled her _patronus_. Resembled, hell! It was the same sodding animal! He spread his wings a moment, before settling them along his back. He cantered up to her, looking at her with a hopeful, expectant look in his eyes. As she gently stroked his beak, trying to get past the absolute unreality of the situation, she saw something that confirmed that this could only be Harry. Aside from him, she knew of only one other person with that particular shade of green to their eyes, and she was long dead, having given her life for her son, more than fifteen years ago. The only person this could be was...

"Harry." She ran her hands over the top of his head, scratching for a moment at the ridge just over the eye facing her. She watched the lid on that eye droop shut in relaxation, and wished that she could find a way to always make sure he was that relaxed around her, with that kind of intimacy. She ran her hand over the fur along his back, lost in admiring the way the firelight danced across his coat. She stayed this way for a few moments, until she was interrupted by what sounded like a snort. She looked to her left, and saw him looking back over his shoulder at her. If it was possible for a hippogriff to look both amused and nervous, then that would explain what she now saw.

She stepped back, keeping her hands to herself. _This_ was an explanation she really wanted to hear.

The transformation back was much quicker. In an eyeblink, Harry was back to himself. He took her hand and led her back to the sofa, sitting beside her this time. Harry took off his glasses and looked into Ginny's eyes, hoping that he was right in what he thought he saw there. He decided that it was time to throw caution to the wind, as a true Marauder should. It was time to tell her.

"Gin, before I start, I need you to do something for me. I've got something I need to get off my chest, and I need to be able to do it uninterrupted. If you stop me in the middle, I don't know if I could ever work up the nerve, again. Alright?" With her nod of assent, he continued.

"First of all, I want to say thank you. Over the past half a year, you've done so much for me. You've been one of the best friends I could ever hope to have. You've talked, teased, and threatened me out of depression, more times than I ever want to think about. I don't even want to contemplate where I'd be, if it wasn't for you. You've saved my sanity, my soul, and my life.

"I also need to apologize. I ignored you for far too long. I'll admit, I saw you first as Ron's little sister. I never realized how truly remarkable you are in your own right. You're as smart as Hermione, as Brave as Ron (more if you're counting spiders), as dangerous as the Twins, and as caring as your mum. On top of that, you're the prettiest witch in Hogwarts, if not the whole of England. I can't believe I was so blind for so long. Of course, with _my_ track record with girls, it's no surprise I'd wake up and smell the firewhiskey long after you'd given up on me."

Even if she hadn't given her word to let him finish, there was no way Ginny could have said anything at this point. She was in shock, and that only intensified with what he said next.

"What I'm trying to say is that I'm falling for you, Ginny, and falling hard. Gin, you know some of how I grew up. Until I met your family, I don't think I ever knew what love was, not really." He smiled, remembering something. "D'you know, the jumper I got from your mum in my first year here, was the first Christmas present, or any other for that matter, I'd ever gotten?"

Ginny shook her head, a lone tear rolling down her cheek. Harry leaned over and wiped it away before continuing.

"I'm not telling you this in some lame attempt at getting sympathy, but more for background. I guess it helps to explain why I'm such rubbish when it comes to relationships. I never even saw what a real family was supposed to be, until the summer before my second year." He stopped short, looking at her.

"I'm babbling, aren't I?"

"Yes you are, but it's alright. It's actually kind of cute."

The pretty redhead looked highly amused at this. Rather than putting him off, this encouraged Harry. At least she hadn't run off in disgust or burst into derisive laughter at his ineptitude. Good sign, that.

He struggled for a moment to find the best way to finish. Running a hand through his hair, he managed to muss it more than usual, never mind that such a thing would normally be considered impossible. _Merlin_,but he was buggering this up. Alright. Was he a Gryffindor or not?

_Really, Potter. You can deal with the Dark Tosser and his pet idiots on an annual basis without much trouble, but you can't handle one cute little redhead? Tsk, Tsk._

The problem was that he couldn't even make a rebuttal to this. It felt a little too close to the truth. This thought in mind, he screwed up his nerve and asked the hardest question he'd asked yet in his short life.

"Ginny, would you be my girlfriend?"

The girl in question had thought she was in shock a few minutes ago. That wasn't shock. Not even close. That was a mere hiccough. Had she just heard what she thought she had? Was her dream finally coming true?

The only thing Harry knew at the moment was that Ginny hadn't responded. She hadn't said a thing. Hadn't even moved. _Bugger._ Of course not. She was probably frantically trying to find a way to let him down easy, to let him know nicely that she wasn't interested. He closed his eyes, dropping his head.

"I'm sorry, Ginny. I shouldn't have said anything. Of course you _mmph!"_

What had stopped his stumbling apology was the fact that he'd gone, quite suddenly, from sitting up to flat on his back. Attached to his lips was an extremely cute red-haired witch. Beyond the sensations this was causing, along with the curtain of auburn tresses that surrounded their faces at the moment, the rest of the world didn't exist.

When she broke the kiss and sat astride him, her hands resting on his chest, an eternity later, he looked up, astonished, to find her grinning.

"Harry, you silly, lovely, daft idiot. Shut up."

This kept him quiet as effectively as any _silencio_. To say that she had his full, complete, and undivided attention was an understatement on the same level as saying that Voldemort was a somewhat unpleasant individual, with a rather unfortunate skin condition and a bad case of halitosis.

"Do you remember the tip you gave me, that made my _patronus_ finally work?" At his nod, she continued. "When you told me to try using my hopes and dreams when casting the charm, I pictured us, together, married, with children. I saw you holding me, kissing me, loving me.

"Harry, for as long as I can remember, I have loved you. When I first saw you, I knew you, and knew that I loved you. It wasn't until you were climbing onto the train, that I realized that you really _were_ Harry Potter. It really wasn't The Boy Who Lived that I had the crush on. It was Harry, the boy who looked so very alone by himself at King's Cross. Harry, who I hoped would find friendship with my brothers. Later, the same Harry who ignored how much I'd embarrassed him, and still saved my life in the Chamber." Her face tinged a bit with pink. "I still cringe when I remember that awful Valentine's Day card, and the dwarf delivering it, sitting on you until he could finish. I'm so sorry about that."

"Don't be sorry about that. Yeah, it was a little embarrassing, as it was in front of half the school. I was twelve years old, only had one friend who was a girl, and you were the first girl who had ever shown a real interest in me. Is it any wonder that I had no idea how to handle it?" He laughed a bit, then looked back into her eyes. "D'you know, I still have that card, along with the singing get-well card from my third year? I've gotten a fair few cards since then, for birthdays, Christmas, Valentine's and whatnot, but those are two of the very few I've kept? There aren't many I've kept. Only the ones that meant something to me. The rest got binned at one point or another."

"I never knew you kept them. After the Yule Ball in your fourth year, you were so hung up on Cho, I decided that I had to give up on winning you. I'd've gone mad, otherwise. After all, she was and is beautiful. She's also exotic, smart, rich and everything else a bloke could want."

Harry snorted, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, if you could get past the fact that she couldn't go five minutes without talking about Cedric, crying fit to overflow the lake out there, or both. I mean, I know how hard it is to lose somebody close to you, I really don't want to sound mean. But honestly, she just about had me round the bend."

"I know what you mean. At least she seems cheerful enough with Michael, now. Anyway, when you came back holding Cedric's body, I saw what that had done to you, everybody did, really. My heart broke for you. I knew that you would have to go back to those Dursleys, with all the guilt you'd be feeling (misplaced or not), and that they wouldn't give you any of the love and support you'd need.

"You see, I'd been watching you for three years at that point, and probably knew you better than anyone else, save Ron and Hermione. I knew how hard you would take it, how you would blame yourself, no matter that your hand was not the one holding the wand, and you didn't give the order to kill him. It's just the way you are. Something we'll need to have a long talk about at some point."

Her expression went from sad at this point, to a very determined look as she said this. The look on her face right now reminded Harry a bit too much of her mum's for his comfort at the moment.

"That summer, Mione got to Headquarters about a week after the rest of us. We spent every night talking about you, how upset you'd be with all of us over all the things we had to hold back from you. We knew how much we hated being left in the dark ourselves, so we knew it had to be much worse for someone directly involved, as you always have been. We knew that many owls were being intercepted, even killed, but it still ate at us that we couldn't share what little we did know with you.

"You don't know how Hermione fretted over that, and it didn't help when Hedwig kept pecking the two of them." She paused a moment, chuckling. "Hedwig had such a look on her face. I've never seen an owl look so reproachful.

"It was during one of those late night talks that Hermione and I both decided that it was time for us to stop chasing you two, and get on with living our own lives. Neither of us ever gave up on our dreams, but we came to the conclusion that it wasn't healthy to obsess over any boy, no matter how cute, or brave, or...Well, you get the picture. I decided that the best way to get on with my life was to start dating. Michael had asked me out just before the third task, but I turned him down. When he asked again after the Welcoming Feast last year, I accepted. The whole time we were dating, every time he tried to kiss me, I thought of you. Quite pathetic, really. No matter how I tried to give you up, I just couldn't. All this time, you've been the only one in my heart.

"I've loved you for what seems like my entire life, and I always will, Harry James Potter. I know it now, and I'm happy with it. Of course I'll be your girlfriend, on one condition."

Looking dazed, Harry asked, "What condition?" Looking at her now, with that light in her eyes, that small grin on her determined face, he was hard pressed to think of anything he could possibly refuse her.

Ginny lowered herself back down, her hands on either side of his head, until her face was just scant inches from his. She licked her lips and said, "If you don't kiss me this instant, I won't be responsible for what happens."

A good while later, when oxygen became an issue, Ginny broke the kiss and curled up atop him, her head on his chest. She looked up, her eyes meeting his. Slowly, an impish grin grew on her face.

"You do realize, Mr Potter, that you are now quite stuck with me. One thing you should know about me is that I never really learned about sharing. Not good at it at all."

Harry laughed quietly. "I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be 'stuck' with."

A soft, contented sigh escaped her as she settled into his arms, and fell happily asleep.

_Perchance to dream..._

_Finis_

_**A/N:**_ Just a quick note at the close, to say thank you to everybody for all of the wonderful comments I've received for this story. It was a lot of fun to write, and to be honest, I've been absolutely blown away by the response to it. I'd also like to thank Rachael, the bestest beta-reader/reviewer in the known universe. Thank you, dear lady, for catching my mistakes and the enthusiastic encouragement. You give the reviews most writers dream of. Lori and I had to giggle over the other document you sent with your response. Wowzers. You weren't kidding when you said scroll down. Thanks again, m'dear.


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